


Dark Angel

by Kerichi



Series: Tonks and Remus Tales [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending - Deathly Hallows, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: Survival. Separation. Reunion. Death cannot stop true love; all it can do is delay it for a while.





	1. Prologue

 

 

She awoke in torment. Pain gnawed at her bones and stretched her endurance until her body arched off the floor with the force of her scream.

_"Silencio!"_ a female voice cried. "I'm not a bloody mediwitch. I'll never remember the right spells if I can't hear myself think!"

Eyelids closed tightly in anguish slowly opened to focus on the one who cast charms and imprecations with equal fervour.

"Damn that boy for stealing my wand," the witch muttered. "This one doesn't fit my hand half as well. Little bastard. My Lord will make him pay."

Softened by torchlight, gaunt features held traces of beauty that struck a faint chord of recognition. She knew the woman's face, yet couldn't recall a name. The pounding behind her eyes made it too hard to concentrate. She turned her head to the side and stared at the wall, fighting nausea.

_Where am I?_

They were in some kind of abandoned shack. What she could see in the dim light was run-down and smelling of damp. The wallpaper was faded and peeling, the floor mottled with stains. Somehow, she knew she had been there before. She could picture its dusty rooms, yet was unable to remember what villagers called it.

Her heart jolted. They were in a village. Where? A stream of images flashed before her eyes.  _Cottages. Lakes. Rolling hills and heather._

Scotland! She knew the country and nothing else. Her memory wasn't a blank slate, but it was as if fog shrouded her mind. A terrible realisation dawned.

_I can't remember my name._

An icy chill washed over her body. She didn't have a clue who she was or what she looked like. In vain, she tried to summon up her face—any face. Surely, she had friends, family. Why couldn't she remember them? However desperately she tried, she could only see one face. It belonged to the woman treating her.

Panic set in.  _You're healing my body,_   _but what about my memory?_

"There," the witch said. "I've done the best I can. You may speak now."

The assured tone didn't match the wary expression. Did the witch fear her spells hadn't repaired whatever damage had been done?

"Someone hurt me." The words could have been those of a child, but the voice was that of a woman.

_Oh, Merlin,_   _I don't even know how old I am!_

Cool fingertips brushed her cheek. "Give me a name, and they will pay."

"I—I don't know!" Tears scalded the corners of her eyes. "I don't remember anything!"

The witch pushed to her feet and looked away. "My poor child. I was too late."

On the floor, the "poor child" made the effort to sit up. Her muscles felt stiff, but the crippling pain was gone. She stretched out a hand and grabbed the hem of her rescuer's robes. "Who am I?"

"You are of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." The witch dropped to her knees and reached out. "Do you truly not know who you are or who I am?"

There was a connection between them, deep and visceral. "Are you my mother?"

The hands gripping her shoulders tightened. "Yes! You are my child, Terebellum." The witch smiled a little. "Born twenty-five years ago, named after a star like me, Bellatrix."

_Bellatrix is the name of the Amazon star._

A man had told her that. What man? What was his name? The thought gave rise to another one more troubling. "I don't feel like a Terebellum."

"You never did prefer your full name." Thin lips curved. "You always asked to be called Tere."

"Tere," she whispered, sounding out the name. "Just Tere." That sounded better, less stuffy.

"It means the shining one. Fitting for a Metamorphmagus."

"I'm a Metamorphmagus?" The woman still adjusting to the name Tere looked down at her right hand and concentrated. She gasped when it changed from pale-skinned to brown. Amazed, yet feeling the rightness, she asked, "Are you a Metamorphmagus too?"

"No, but your son is."

_My son._ It was one thing to forget her own name, but how could she have forgotten her baby? She searched Bellatrix's face. "He's a baby, isn't he? Not a toddler, not an older child. I can't really remember him, but I know he's a baby."

"You have partial memories. That's . . . wonderful."

"You don't sound happy," Tere said. "Why not?" Suspicion pricked with sharp claws. "What are you hiding from me? Where is my baby?" Her eyes dropped to the ring on her left hand. She was immediately gripped by terror so great, she couldn't bear not knowing. "Where is my husband?"

"Orionis is safe, but Severus—" Bellatrix pointed.

Tere crawled across the room toward the body lying in a pool of blood. The wizard's eyes were open, dark and staring. His face was hauntingly familiar. She didn't remember if they had loved each other; it didn't matter. He was her husband. Anger and loss made her stomach clench. She had to shove a fist into her mouth to keep from crying out.

"Severus Snape gave his life in battle."

Snatches of images flashed before Tere's eyes.  _People screamed. Wizards duelled in flashes of red and green._ "Battle . . . I was fighting a battle."

"It was a ruse," Bellatrix said harshly. "You fell into the enemy's trap. They planned to wipe your memories and use your powers—and your son's—for themselves."

"My son?" Fear clutched her heart. "You said Ori was safe. Where is he?"

"You called him Ori. That's good, very good."

If Bellatrix hoped she was regaining her whole memory, she wasn't. It just felt natural to shorten her son's name. Tere surged to her feet. "Why did I leave him?" What kind of mother risked making her child an orphan?

"Our enemies—the Order—lured you here by threatening to kill your husband and then come for you and your son. When you sent your Patronus to me, I cast a Tracking Spell as quickly as I could." Head bowed, Bellatrix said, "I realised too late that the person you were visiting, who conveniently delivered the note and offered to keep Orionis, was the one who manufactured it." Her voice hardened. "My sister Andromeda."

Suddenly, Bellatrix clasped a hand over the inside of her wrist. " _No!_  My Lord cannot call me so soon!" Her eyes were wild. "It's too early. I need more time!"

"What's wrong?"

Bellatrix—she didn't seem the type of parent that wanted to be called mother—pushed back the sleeve of her robe. The brand of a skull and snake appeared to writhe upon pallid skin. "Do you recognise this? Your husband was proud to bear it. It is the Dark Mark, given to those honoured by Lord Voldemort."

_The Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

Tere looked down at her forearm.

"No," Bellatrix said. "You have not yet been granted a place within the inner circle. You serve in other ways."

Tere glanced away to hide her relief. Disloyal as it might be, the name of Voldemort evoked nothing but revulsion.

Bellatrix moved closer. "I cannot delay my return to the Master's side much longer. Listen carefully. You must retrieve Orionis and wait for me at a safe house until the battle is over. I will use Legilimency to fix the directions—guide your way—if you are unafraid to open your mind."

"I want my son," Tere said fiercely. "I'm not afraid of anything."

Heavy-lidded eyes gleamed. "Of course you aren't. You're a true Black." Tentatively, as though gestures of affection were uncommon for her, Bellatrix pressed a kiss to Tere's cheek.

 

_One hour later..._

It was maddening, the continual sense of deja vu. Tere didn't remember the house with its backdrop of tidy English gardens, and yet felt she had been there many times before.

She heeded Bellatrix's advice and used counter-wards instead of blasting her way in. She could hex her traitorous auntie another time. The only thing that mattered now was rescuing her son.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Dark Dreams

 

 

Tere levitated up to the first-floor window and climbed in, frowning over the strange idea that she should be careful not to trip or knock something over. Why did she fear being clumsy?

A night orb bathed the room with muted light. She walked over to the cot placed against the inside wall. An infant in a blue romper lay staring up at her with big, dark eyes. He smacked his tiny lips, gazing at her expectantly. She felt a rush of love so strong her knees almost gave out.

_Mummy's here for you, baby. Nobody's going to take me away from you again._

After casting a Privacy Ward on the room, Tere used a spell to cleanse the baby's nappy and carried him to the rocking chair. She felt awkward positioning Ori to nurse. He latched on immediately.

Her milk let down in a rush that eased the tightness in her breasts and left a patch of wetness on the right side of her shirt. "Note to self, both sides let down." At the sound of her voice, the baby glanced up, smiled, and promptly resumed nursing. She bent to kiss the top of his head. "Little charmer." He smelled so good. Clean and pure. Tears prickled her eyes.

In the low light, his downy hair looked turquoise. Tere raised a hand to finger her own hair. It was short and spiky.

Twenty minutes later, the baby was burped and dressed. She shrunk everything in the room to fit into a Featherlight brand rucksack and smiled at the baby dozing against her chest, snug in his carrier. "We're going out the front door, sweetie, just as soon as Mummy casts a Sleeping Charm on the wicked witch."

She gripped her wand.

_And if Auntie wakes up,_   _she'll wish she hadn't!_

 

 

In Hogwarts Castle, Remus Lupin awoke from a bad dream only to plunge into a nightmare.

He had dreamt that Dolohov defeated him in battle using a spell he called Living Death.

"You look like you're in eternal slumber, but we know better, don't we, Lupin?" The Death Eater chuckled nastily. "Greyback wants to deal with you personally, but he didn't say what condition you had to be in."

Remus heard his wife shout his name, listened in dread to Bellatrix taunting, "I'm not finished playing with you, wittle Tonksie!"

Blind and immobilised, he was tortured by fears for Nymphadora.

Dolohov nudged him with his shoe. "Bet you'd like to know what's going on, wouldn't you? Too bad I'm not in the mood to play commentator."

Remus felt his body lift into the air. After floating for several seconds, he abruptly dropped to the ground. "A pack of your former students are headed this way, professor. Enjoy playing corpse until the battle's over and Greyback makes you one permanently."

Trapped inside an unresponsive body, Remus heard Voldemort declare a temporary truce to allow his enemies time to gather their dead. His was not the only body carried into the Hall, but the voices around him were too hushed or incoherent with sobs for Remus to decipher the names of any casualties except one: Fred Weasley.

Remus was moved to a chamber off the Hall, but his thoughts remained the same. Where was Nymphadora? What had happened to his wife?

His mind began to play tricks. He relived his wedding day, and then held Teddy moments after his birth. At one point, Remus imagined he was dead and speaking to Harry from beyond the veil, his spirit accompanying the boy to confront Voldemort. It was a surreal, out-of-body experience.

Remus had almost entirely disconnected from reality when the meaning behind the faint roar of cheers finally penetrated his mind. Voldemort was dead! Harry lived. The war was over.

He thought about Teddy growing up in a world where Voldemort's reign of terror was a matter for the history books or children's stories about a boy wizard. Perhaps a bonfire night would be held each May, with an effigy of Voldemort burnt like the Muggle Guy Fawkes. Children young and old would celebrate.

Not until he realised that the glow of the bonfire he imagined was in actuality sunlight did it dawn on Remus that his eyes were open. He blinked and then cried in happiness. The curse wasn't permanent! The spell was breaking!

The first thing he did when he was able to move was look around him.

The body lying next to him was his wife.

His first thought was that Nymphadora had fallen victim to the same curse Dolohov used on him. He scooped her up only to stare in horror. While the skin of her face was pale, the back of her neck looked bruised. Blood collected at lower levels when it no longer pumped throughout the body. It was liver mortis. Incontrovertible proof of death.

His mind rebelled. She was all the colour and joy in the world. He needed her. Their son needed her. In the dark reaches of his being, his wolf needed her. Tears coursed down his face as he reached for her hand.

The sight of pearl pink fingernails made his heart leap into his throat. His wife would never wear that colour. Candyfloss pink, bubblegum pink, or hot pink were the shades she preferred, and since Teddy's birth, she had thrown out her polishes. If she wanted colour, she morphed her nails. Nymphadora worried that the baby might grab a polished fingernail and suck on it.

His fingers shook, but Remus managed to scratch a pink thumbnail with one of his own short nails. The polish chipped. He laid the body on the floor, thanking every star in the heavens that whoever the unfortunate woman was, she was not Nymphadora.

"My God! Remus! You're alive!" Arthur Weasley stood in the doorway, face white with shock. "I—I came to check on Fred."

"And found me." Remus levered himself up, suppressing a groan at the ache in his joints. "I'm so sorry for your loss and regret I gave you a start. Dolohov struck me with a curse he called Living Death. It only now wore off."

"Did he use it on Tonks as well?"

Remus said, "I don't know." He saw Arthur gaze at the impostor's body and shook his head. "That isn't her."

_One hour later . . . ._

 

Humbled by the gladness expressed for his return, especially by Harry, Remus was no closer to finding Nymphadora. Kingsley and the other Order members had questioned every person who had patrolled the grounds. No one had seen his wife after she ran out of the castle. Slughorn provided Veritaserum for use on Dolohov, but even when compelled to tell the truth, the imprisoned Death Eater laughed in their faces.

"I saw her fall and nothing else," he said. "How the bodies were exchanged—why they were switched—I don't know. Bellatrix never told me her plans, but she brooded over them like a hen waiting for her chicks to hatch." He laughed, mocking their frustration. "The black hen has the last cackle, eh?"

Fenrir Greyback was beyond questioning. In order to avoid prosecution for his crimes, he had used his claws to slit one last throat: his own.

The group that remained to help with the search gathered at one end of the Gryffindor table.

Molly Weasley was beside herself. "Why did I kill Bellatrix?"

"She was an evil bitch who deserved to die." George leaned across the table to clasp his mother's hand. "I'm proud of you."

Molly shook her head. "If only I'd known."

"No one could have," Arthur said firmly.

Harry cleared his throat. "We know why Voldemort wanted to capture me, but why would he order Bellatrix—"

"Maybe he didn't," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded. "Bellatrix didn't immediately tell Voldemort that you were captured, Harry. She could have been waiting to tell him her plan and—"

"Whatever that was," Ron said glumly.

Arthur looked at Remus. "My family has a habit of finishing other people's sentences," he said with the ghost of a smile. "But we mean well."

"I appreciate it," Remus said, "and believe the children are right."

Before he could suggest they examine Bellatrix's corpse for clues, Minerva McGonagall rushed into the Hall from the staff entrance. "Lupin. In my office. Immediately!"

Her imperious tone reminded him of errant student days, but Remus was mature enough to recognise the worry bracketing her mouth. "Yes, of course," he said, following her at once.

She kept up a brisk pace, ushering him into the circular office while calling, "Remus is here."

"Only Remus? Where is Dora? She needs to know too!"

His mother-in-law sounded on the verge of hysteria. Remus took her hands in his. Although dread gripped his heart, he asked gently, "Where is Teddy?"

Andromeda burst into tears. "He's gone!" she wailed. "I went to check on him and he was gone! Everything was gone!"

_Gone..._

Remus could sense the wolf inside, snarling to track down whoever had stolen his mate and pup. He felt a rare unity with the animal. Nymphadora and Teddy were everything to him, and they were gone.

He vowed to find them.

 


	3. Dark Places

 

 

She took a broomstick, a Comet that had seen better days. Apparation was stomach-wrenching for adults. She wouldn't risk hurting her baby.

When Tere landed in the back garden of the house whose occupants were loyal to the Dark Lord, she unfastened the straps of the insulated rain cape protecting Ori in his carrier. His warm skin and steady breathing reassured her that he was all right. "Stay sleeping, love," she whispered, covering him once more.

A pyjama-clad man answered her knock. His expression was less than welcoming. "What do you want?"

"To use your Floo."

"Don't say that so loud! Only top officials are supposed to be connected to the Network." He opened the door. "Go straight through the kitchen into the lounge."

"Ta, thanks." There were baby bottles drying in a rack over the sink, infant toys on a blanket in the lounge. She asked, "Do you have a girl or boy?"

"None of your damn business. I do what I'm told, you people keep Greyback away from my family. That was the deal."

Tere shrugged. Fine. No chit-chat. She wasn't in the mood anyway.

"Floo powder's on the mantel."

She'd dealt with too much to put up with his attitude. Tere said, "My mother, Bellatrix, mentioned your loyalty, but not your rudeness. I wonder if she knows." She threw powder onto the fire. "Maybe I should tell her."

While he was apologising, she stepped into green flames and said, "D—Dia—gon Alley," as she'd been instructed.

After a trip through the Floo system, she landed in the fireplace of Borgin and Burkes. Ori's feet pushed against her stomach. Tere said, "Sorry, sweetie, ride's over. We walk from here." She raised her wand. " _Lumos!_ "

Light revealed a showroom filled with what looked to be Dark objects of every kind. She was careful not to brush against anything. When she approached the front door, it opened. Security wards kept thieves out, not customers in. She walked outside and saw shrunken heads leering at her from behind the window of the shop across the street. A sign confirmed she had reached her destination: Knockturn Alley.

The safe house was a flat above an out of business Tarot Centre located between the poisonous candle shop and a fish and chip takeaway. Directly across the alley was a pub, the Sleazy Kneazle.

"I guess we're hiding in plain sight," Tere said. She unlocked the private entrance and used her wand to navigate the dark stairway to the flat. She drew the Norse rune  _Thurisaz_ —the frost giant representing chaos—on the door. It glowed green and vanished.

Ori let out a distressed cry.

Tere hurried into the flat, shrugged off her rucksack, and unfastened the cape to lift her son out of his carrier. His face and hair were red. The stench that hit her nose answered why. "Eww, dirty nappy, no wonder you're tetchy."

She looked around for a surface to use as a changing table. There wasn't one. Aside from a grimy all-in-one kitchen unit and two mismatched wooden chairs, the space was bare of furniture. Takeaway boxes and empty beer bottles littered the floor.

"This place is a shit hole." She kissed Ori's forehead. "Which has nothing to do with your nappy."

She picked up the rucksack and carried it along with her upset baby into the next room. Praise Merlin, it was tidier, and there was a double bed. Tere cast a Sanitising Spell on the coverlet and set Ori down. If she didn't think about  _how_ she knew things, spells came easily. Only when she tried to remember names and faces or the past did her mind go blank and her head start to pound.

The Order—whoever the bastards were—had done this to her.

_They planned to wipe your memories and use your powers—and your son's—for themselves._

"Didn't work," Tere said to Ori. "Nobody's going to use us."

Her son watched her with unblinking blue eyes. She wondered if he looked like her. He didn't resemble his father.

The walls were bare, so she left Ori in the centre of the mattress and walked into the ensuite bathroom. The mirror over the washbasin was dusty but otherwise clean. She looked at her reflection. The heart-shaped face and dark blue eyes were unfamiliar. She fingered mousey brown hair. Talk about a bad hair day. She morphed it turquoise.

"Lucky boy, you have my nose," she said when she returned to the bedroom.

Ori gurgled. He was lying on his stomach.

She realised he had turned over.

"Oh my God!" Tere rushed to the bed and scooped Ori up. "You could have rolled off, you could've been hurt." She sat on the edge of the mattress and rocked back and forth. "I'm so sorry."

Hot tears splashed her cheeks. She'd assumed Ori was young enough to be left without harm. Bellatrix didn't say how many weeks old he was, and Tere sure as hell didn't remember. Was he small for his age or an early developer? She had so many questions.

To pass the time until Bellatrix returned, she decided to set up the baby's cot and then use a few householdy spells to make the place liveable. Staying busy would keep her from thinking about everything she'd gone through. All that she'd lost.

"I won't lose you," she told Ori, kissing his cheeks and his adorable nose. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

 

 

Teddy's nursery mirrored Remus's soul. Without his wife and son, he was just as empty. He stood in the centre of the room and mentally tallied the items taken: cot, chest of drawers, illumination orb, rocking chair, baby gear. "They plan to take care of him," he told Andromeda, who watched from the doorway. "That's reassuring."

"Is it?" she asked bleakly. "Whoever did this was acting on Bellatrix's orders. What will happen now that she's dead?"

"The kidnappers may simply release them. There's no incentive to keep Nymphadora and Teddy hostage any longer. Whatever plans were made are null. " He had to believe that.

Andromeda said, "I should have changed the wards after Ted's death, but we were told he was killed resisting capture. I never dreamt—" Her face twisted, heightening her resemblance to Bellatrix, although her motherly anguish was a feeling her sister had never experienced.

Remus gently patted her shoulder. "Don't assume the worst. Veritaserum is quicker and more effective than torture."

"Bella would have used the  _Cruciatus_  Curse to enjoy his screams."

"She wasn't there," Remus said firmly. The words echoed in his mind.  _She wasn't there._ That meant Bellatrix's accomplices had to be Snatchers, or at least one of them. He shared his theory and said, "I'll go to London, find out who Aurors have in custody, see if one of them talks. You'll stay here in case Nymphadora returns."

"I'll make you a cup of tea before you go."

It had taken Teddy's birth for his mother-in-law to switch from asking, "May I?" like a polite host to treating him as a son and telling him that she was making tea. The change pleased Remus. He said, "I'll be down in a few minutes."

He left the nursery and entered the room he shared with Nymphadora. At first glance, the bedroom appeared ransacked. The duvet tossed aside, pillows on the floor, and clothing strewn. Closer inspection revealed jewellery still in its chest, undergarments, shirts, and trousers in wardrobe drawers. His wife, as usual, had dressed in haste and left the mess to clear up later.

It didn't make sense.

Why clear out Teddy's room and leave all of Nymphadora's things untouched? If nothing else, the jewellery could be pawned. He decided the abductors never entered the room.

In the kitchen, Remus found Andromeda had prepared breakfast along with a pot of tea. The smell of soft-boiled eggs, warm baguette, and cheese made his stomach rumble. It seemed wrong to be hungry when his wife and child were missing. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"I almost grilled a gammon steak and fried the eggs," Andromeda said. "This is simple fare, quickly made."

_And quickly eaten?_ He thanked her and took a seat at the table. After he'd wolfed down most of the food, he took a last sip of tea and said, "Nothing was taken from our room. The accomplices must have used Teddy's window as the point of entry."

Andromeda shook her head. "The front door was left standing open."

He repeated aloud his previous thought, "It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they were on a schedule and it took longer to gather Teddy's things than they expected. They work for my sister. How intelligent could they be?" Andromeda immediately answered her own question. "Smart enough to counter the wards and put me into deep sleep."

Remus pushed to his feet. "I'll send an owl the minute I have news."

"No matter how insignificant you think it is." She came around the table to give him a hug. "Nymphadora never lost faith in you," she said. "I won't either."

"Thank you." He walked until he passed through the invisible barrier shielding the home and then Apparated to the nearest Floo Station. During the war, when the Ministry banned private Floo use and monitored public Floo activity, he had walked or Apparated from town to town to reach his destination. Now that the war was over, he would use the Floo record to his benefit.

 

 As expected, the security troll pointed to the logbook when he entered.

Remus eagerly scanned the list of those who signed up to use the Floo. The most recent signature was written six hours previously. "Has anyone  _official_ used the Floo this morning?" he asked. For all he knew, Snatchers and their ilk had a card they could flash to get around having to sign.

The troll answered in a low rumble, "No."

"You can tell me the truth," Remus said. "Voldemort's army was defeated at Hogwarts. He's dead. Death Eaters can't threaten or control you anymore."

The troll's face remained impassive. If he was happy Voldemort's dark hold was lifted, he didn't show it. "No one," he said.

"That can't be," Remus said. "My son has been abducted, and unless they flew with him on a broomstick—which is very unlikely—the kidnappers had to use a Floo."

Unless they Apparated.

His stomach lurched.  _Not with a baby. Only a monster would Apparate with a baby._

"Pri-vate," said the troll. He spoke so slowly each syllable almost became a separate word.

It took a moment for Remus to understand that a private home in the county remained connected to the Floo Network. Finally, something made sense _._ The Ministry had to ensure Voldemort's minions were able to terrorise freely. Records would be kept under wraps at the Floo Network Authority.

Remus thanked the troll and Flooed to London.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _When something's gone, I wanna fight to get it back again._ I had Pearl Jam's The Fixer on the brain this chapter. The lyrics go with Remus's state of mind, and I like the tune. :)


	4. Dark Challenge

 

 

Magical Law Enforcement and Aurors held back the crowd of journalists and concerned citizens gathered near the visitors entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Remus pushed his way through, calling out to the man he recognised, "Jerry Connelly! It's Remus Lupin!"

His wife's former Auror partner escorted him through the outer barrier of M.L.E. officers. Jerry's earnest, freckled face matched Nymphadora's description of "overgrown wizard scout" to a tee.

"Shacklebolt's appointed a task force to work with the Missing Persons Unit," Jerry said. "Crantz and Stern—" He broke off to inform the Aurors guarding the portal disguised as a broken-down telephone box, "This is Tonks Lupin's husband. He's authorised entrance."

Jerry entered the box first and dialled 6-2-4-4-2, MAGIC. "Remus Lupin to consult with task force," he said. A silver badge appeared.

Remus tucked it into his pocket as the telephone box sank into the ground like a lift. "Crantz and Stern?" The middle aged, beer-bellied Aurors were likeable scammers, always trying to cadge a free meal and get junior staff to do their paperwork. Not men he would have chosen to head the task force.

"They each have thirty years’ experience and think the world of Tonks," Jerry said. "I promise we'll do everything we can to bring her and Teddy home soon."

" _We?_ "

"I was their first volunteer."

In days gone by, Remus would have felt threatened by such a declaration. He'd seen Jerry as the embodiment of the normal life he could never provide for Nymphadora. The realities of war—and an eye-opening talk with Harry—had forced him to face and conquer his insecurities. Life was too short not to spend it with those he loved. He said, "Thank you," and meant it without reservation.

Jerry smiled. "She's the best."

An impersonal female voice announced they’d reached the Atrium. Remus caught sight of a pile of black rubble and said, "That's an improvement." The highly publicised, strategically photographed—showing the wizard and witch, not the naked Muggles holding up their thrones—Magic is Might statue had been destroyed.

"No one's taking credit," Jerry said.

That was understandable. The legal and/or personal consequences weren't worth the acclaim.

Once they reached the lifts corridor, Remus said, "I've been to the house and have a theory about Bellatrix's possible accomplices." He filled Jerry in.

The iron grilles to one of the lifts slid open. Jerry motioned for him to enter. "Crantz and Stern are questioning a Snatcher taken into custody after the battle. I'll take you to the interview room and then go to the Floo Network Authority and get that list." Jerry led the way to the M.L.E. department, down a grey corridor familiar to Remus. It was the same one he'd walked after James and Lily's death to be interrogated about Sirius.

Jerry passed a door and flattened his hand against the wall. A rectangular window appeared. "It's a two-way mirror," he said. "Tap the glass to activate sound."

Remus was already reaching for the door handle. "I'm going to talk with him." He strode inside to confront the man who might lead them to Teddy and Nymphadora.

The Snatcher was a wizard of average height and build, hunched forward in his armless chair with his back to the door and his wrists and ankles restrained. The state of his clothing and straggly hair indicated poverty born of addiction or a "furry little problem."

There was no table in the room to give the psychological advantage of a physical barrier, no comfort in seating or lighting.

Unlike the prisoner, Crantz and Stern didn't seem uncomfortable with their surroundings. They flanked the Snatcher in a semicircle, Crantz with his legs stretched out while Stern propped his left ankle on his right knee. The Aurors didn't move when Remus entered.

"Come on in," Stern said. "We don't mind another addition to the party. Our first guest isn't doing much talking."

Crantz conjured a chair. "Have a seat."

"I told you I need water," the Snatcher said. "I can't talk wi' no water."

Remus conjured a goblet and used  _Aguamenti_  to fill it. "Here," he said. "What's your name?"

The prisoner displayed stained, cracked teeth when he smiled his thanks. "Scabior."

"My name's Lupin." Remus positioned his chair directly in front of Scabior. "My family was kidnapped by Bellatrix Lestrange. Tell me where to find them."

Bloodshot eyes widened. "I—I dunno," Scabior said. "I worked for Greyback, not 'at I got paid t' gold 'e promised, just enough to keep doing 'is dirty work. I didn't work for Lestrange, and I didn't fight in the battle."

"He was in Knockturn Alley," Stern said.

Crantz snorted. "Looking for a potions dealer, so he claims."

"I needed something to keep me going," Scabior said. He scratched his forearm and asked Remus, "Could I 'ave another drink? Can't cast spells meself."

The magical restraints prevented wandless spellcasting. Remus filled the goblet once more. "Whoever broke into the house knew the counter-wards—spells gained from Ted Tonks, a Muggle-born wizard killed by Snatchers."

"Not me! I'm no killer," Scabior said.

Crantz sat up straight. "But you know who is."

"They became Death Eaters, didn't they?" Stern said. "Give us names, and we might see about getting you treatment instead of jail time."

Scabior nodded violently. "Right. I should be in 'ospital. I never killed no Mudbloods."

"You handed Muggle-borns over to be killed. You're equally guilty." Remus had to leave before anger overcame his need for information. He stood. "I'll be in touch."

"Could you do one more water spell?" Scabior asked. "Potions give a bloke cotton mouth."

"I'll do it," Stern said.

Remus bet the water would be laced with Veritaserum. Outside, he tapped the glass and listened to Scabior list potential accomplices: Doherty, Hewish, Budgell, and Pryce. He committed the names to memory.

Jerry returned as Crantz and Stern moved on to a new round of questions. Remus muted the sound with a fingertip. "What happened?"

"Nothing good. As soon as word got out about Voldemort, Trengrouse came in and turned his  _sensitive files_ to ash. Said he was programmed to do it, that he was under the Imperius Curse." Jerry's hands fisted. "I almost punched him."

"Don't stoop to his level," Remus said. "We still have leads."

" _We?_ Crantz and Stern head the task force. They might not want—"

"I'm not trying to interfere," Remus said. "I'm trying to get my family back. Allow me to help."

Jerry glanced toward the two-way mirror. "I'll see what I can do."

 

 

Tidied, with a rocking chair and illumination orb added to the meagre furnishings, the lounge still wasn't cosy, but it was better than the shit-hole chic of the original decor. She'd placed the cot in the bedroom. "No sense in unpacking anything else, I'm sure we'll leave once Bellatrix returns," Tere said to Ori, rocking him back and forth. The soothing motion was for her sake more than his. He was asleep.

She could've put him in his cot, but she needed to feel his warmth to remind herself that she wasn't alone. She smiled when his lips turned up at the corners. Ori made the cutest faces.

Her gaze eventually drifted to the empty kitchen cupboards. Strange that a safe house would have no ready meals or bottled drinks on hand. Maybe the pigs who stayed there before her left in a hurry. If You-Know-Who called them to battle, the last thing on their minds would be restocking supplies.

Thoughts of the battle brought a return of the vicious headache that seemed to continually lurk, waiting to strike. Tere took a deep breath and released it slowly. She had to focus on the present. Concentrate on what was important: taking care of Ori.

She sighed when her tummy rumbled. Her body had different ideas. Whatever she'd eaten last had long since digested.

Since it wouldn't hurt to skip a meal, she ignored the hunger pangs and rocked her darling boy until he woke and needed his nappy sanitised. Then it was time to nurse. Afterward, she carried Ori to the lone, narrow window so he could feel the diffused sunlight on his face. He stared raptly at the side wall of the poisonous candle shop.

Tere didn't find the shadow play on brick nearly as riveting. She leaned in and tilted her head in order to see down the alley between the buildings. "Foot traffic's livelier now," she said, rubbing Ori's back.

He burped.

"Yeah, yeah, you could care less." Tere brushed a kiss across his hair. "Mummy's happy to see people, though, because she's going to have to pop next door for food, sooner or later, and it's easier not to draw attention on a busy street."

For all she knew, her picture was on a Wanted Poster hanging at the Owl Post Office. If Bellatrix's "Master" won the battle it wouldn't matter who saw her. If he was defeated, she'd risk arrest.

In the bedroom, she placed Teddy on his stomach in his cot. He immediately used his arms to lift his chest off the mattress.

"That's it! Get some baby exercise while I do my morphing."

Tere stepped into the bathroom and gazed thoughtfully at her reflection. "Overweight," she said. "Enough to hide Ori under my robes and have no one ask how many weeks till the baby's due."

She made a face. Talking to the baby was one thing, talking out loud to herself was another, especially if she slipped and did it in public. They'd call her the Loony Lady—which might not be a bad cover. Tere morphed her eyes to light grey and protruding. Her lashes were blonde.

_Funny, I didn't even think about eyelash colour. I rather like it._

Her hair she lengthened and changed to dirty-blonde. Paler skin, pink lips, and a gain of four stone's weight completed her disguise.

She leaned toward the mirror. What kind of voice went with the persona? Bellatrix's cool arrogance? "Cod and chips _. Now_."

Tere sniggered. No, her loony appearance needed a different tone. She widened her eyes. "I'm sure a Wrackspurt floated into my ear today. My brain's all fuzzy." Dreamy and peculiar—yes, that was the way to go. People edged away from women like that. They didn't try to strike up a conversation.

How she knew such a thing was a mystery she wasn't going to think about. She didn't want another blinding headache.

In the other room, Ori cooed. She went in and found him on his back, moving his hands in a near-clapping motion. "Look at you!" she cried. "You turned over! What a talented boy." She placed him on his stomach.

He fretted.

Tere picked him up. "OK, you're not a performing monkey. I just . . .."

_I want something to remember._

She blinked away useless tears. "Let's strap you into your carrier and go visit the neighbours." She hated to cast a Silencing Charm, but she would still feel him move, and if someone heard Ori it wouldn't take long for the story to travel.

There was an impressive amount of Galleons in one of the rucksack compartments. Bellatrix probably considered Sickles and Knuts déclassé. Tere slipped a few gold coins into a pocket. It wouldn't do to flash too much money around. Someone might think she was rich and try to mug her.

Downstairs, her heart rate jumped as she opened the door. Oh, Merlin. Did she really need food? They said you couldn't be too thin or too pretty. She unzipped her robes to check to see if Ori was crying. She wouldn't go if he was going to be traumatised.

He was asleep.

Outside, she saw customers were steadily filing into the Sleazy Kneazle. By comparison, the chip shop Frydays was almost deserted. Tere queued up behind a brawny wizard and looked around curiously. There was a wooden bar along one wall for customers to stand at and eat. Beyond the bored-looking young witch at the order counter was a warming area where the cook dumped fresh batches of fish and chips. Another worker wrapped the food in white paper, adding salt and vinegar.

She ordered two pieces of cod, three rolls, a double order of chips, and a side of mushy peas. The sullen young witch gave Tere the Sickles and Knuts change and a _no wonder you're fat_ look.

Tere was tempted to comment that she'd looked  _just like_ the girl when she was younger. She'd decided to be the bigger person all round and turned to go when a newspaper left on the bar snagged her attention. She was instantly transfixed by the bold headline.

**THE WAR IS OVER!**

 


	5. Dark Day

Voldemort was dead.

"Take it, if you like," said the girl at the counter when Tere remained staring at the front-page article. "It's old news around here. People talked nothin' else all mornin'."

"Thanks." Like an automaton, she returned to the flat, placed Ori in his cot, stored the food, and morphed her appearance to normal. Afterward, she took the  _Prophet_  into the lounge, searching for a mention of Bellatrix.

She found it on page two, under the caption  _Death Eaters Defeated._ Bellatrix Lestrange, infamous escapee from Azkaban, guilty of torture and murder using Unforgivable Curses, was killed by Molly Weasley, a mother who lost a son in battle and heroically vowed, "You will never touch our children again!"

The irony was staggering. Tere refolded the paper and thrust it into one of the empty kitchen drawers before she set it on fire. Destroying the news wouldn't change the facts.

_I'm a widow and an orphan, and I can't even mourn._

How could she? The people she'd lost were only names and faces. Despite the horror of seeing Severus's body and the connection she'd sensed with Bellatrix, she felt detached like a ghost instead of intensely emotional. She needed to know who her parents and husband were beyond the label of Dark wizards to fully grieve them.

In the meantime, she had to live. She went into the next room and dumped the contents of the rucksack onto the bed. Maybe Bellatrix had hidden something besides Galleons inside.

She turned the rucksack inside out and said, " _Aperio_." As suspected, a pocket magically opened within the lining of the main compartment. She withdrew a large white envelope. "Look, Ori, Nana Bella left us a present." Her son was still asleep, but talking to him made her feel less like a full-time Loony Lady. She smiled. On the other side of the veil, Bellatrix probably grimaced to hear herself called  _Nana._  "Too bad, Mamma mia," Tere murmured. She unfastened the packet's seal. "You die, you lose the right to choose nicknames."

Suddenly, a flash of song went through her mind.

_Mamma mia, here I go again._

"My, my . . . that's all I remember." She shrugged away disappointment and reached into the envelope. Tingles shot up her arm. A security ward had deactivated. She pulled out three rectangular packets labelled Documents, The Order, and Terebellum, opening the one addressed to her. She unfolded a sheet of parchment.

_My dearest daughter,_

_If you've found this letter, the unthinkable has happened. My lord has fallen and I with him. The wizarding world's only hope to regain blood-purity is lost. Muggles and Mudbloods will continue to pollute the earth, and our enemies will glory in our defeat. You are my only hope of vengeance, the only one able to secure the future of the House of Black._

_Know at the end, you and Orionis were in my thoughts._

_Your devoted mother,_

_Bellatrix_

 

No words of love, no regrets. Tere got the impression her family took the fun out of dysfunctional, and yet Bellatrix had rescued her and done her best to help. Not every mother was the tea parties and biscuits, snuggle in bed and read fairy tales sort. That didn't mean she didn't care.

_My poor child . . . Give me a name, and they will pay._

Moisture trickled down the cheek Bellatrix had kissed. She wiped it away and picked up the Order envelope.

Inside were photographs with notes scribbled on the back: name, last known address, associates, and area of vulnerability. They were homemade Wizard Cards: a limited-edition revenge pack, chocolate frogs not included.

There was no way to take vengeance on each individual. She'd have to target key members and leave the rest wondering if they were next. She laid out the pictures. Several were obviously related. Two were identical twins. She looked at the back of the one with the cheekiest smile.

_Fred Weasley._

_Current whereabouts unknown_

_Co-owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_

_93 Diagon Alley_

A Weasley. She crammed all the photos of redheads back into the envelope. She wasn't ready to deal with that family yet. Her eyes were drawn to the picture of a wizard who looked like a professor, not a terrorist. Streaks of silver in his hair and lines at the corners of his eyes lent a world-weary air to his handsome, intellectual features. She turned the photograph over.

_Remus J. Lupin_

_Current whereabouts unknown_

_Associate of the Weasley family_

_Werewolf_

Tere shook her head. What kind of mother with a last name like Lupin named her kid Remus? He was doomed from birth. On closer inspection, his face wasn't as old as she'd thought, and his appearance was far from professor-like. His brown jumper was tatty, straight from a charity shop. His hair was shaggy and in need of a trim. As a werewolf, he'd have a hard time gaining employment. He likely did odd jobs in exchange for meals and a place to sleep.

She frowned. The bloody damned headache was starting to creep up on her again. Whatever he did for the Order, Remus J. Lupin wasn't worth targeting, and his wistful smile wasn't earning him her pity, either. She dropped his picture into the envelope and then scooped up the rest and dumped them in as well. Revenge was a dish best served cold, or in her case, after she'd figured out a plan.

How much money did she have? Where would she go after dishing out whatever retribution she came up with? She reached for the Documents envelope. There were two birth certificates, an identification card, a golden key, and Gringotts Bank Galleons transfer statements documenting the movement of gold from the Lestrange vault to the one belonging to Terebellum Black in London—and to her vault in Gringotts Mint, Saint Petersburg.

_Russia? My baby growing up saying dasvidania_ and going to Durmstrang _? Niet!_

Her initial rejection was soon tempered by practicality. Just because she didn't want to live there didn't mean she couldn't visit the city and transfer her Galleons somewhere else.

Another thought struck. The name on her vault was Black, not Snape. So was the name on her ID. There was no marriage licence, so she checked Ori's birth certificate. Orionis Cygnus Black. Mother: Terebellum Black. Father: Unknown. Tere stared in disbelief.  _Unknown?_ What the hell was going on?

Her baby's hungry cry ended futile attempts to come up with answers. As she took care of his needs, her stomach gurgled long and noisily. Ori paused feeding.

She couldn't help chuckling at the way tiny brows expressed startle. "Even babies have what-the-hell moments." She lifted his dimpled hand and kissed it. "I'll have to start saying Hades and other euphemisms. Don't want your first word to be a naughty one."

After Ori finished nursing, she strapped him into his carrier and went to reheat her food. She devoured everything except the rolls. Future meals would be bread and water unless she ventured out. "We'll go to the Sleazy Kneazle later. Get some pub grub and find out what's going on in the world." She ran a hand across silky baby hair. "Right now, it's nap time."

She settled Ori and crawled onto the bed, lacking the energy to clear off the mattress. The Order envelope lay on the next pillow.

_Sleeping with the enemy. What would Mother say?_  

A watery giggle burst out, followed by tears.

 

 

Crantz and Stern surprised Remus by immediately agreeing to make his consultant status official.

"We need all the manpower we can get," Stern said. "The first twenty-four to forty-eight hours are the most vital, and the Missing Persons Unit is drowning in new cases. They're sending an evidence team to the house, but until more Aurors return to duty, we're a task force of four."

Remus looked at Jerry.

"I wasn't lying. I was their first volunteer," Jerry said. "And when everyone who's been sacked or reassigned comes back, I won't be the last."

The Order members would help, as well, but first Remus needed information. "The Snatchers who became Death Eaters. Are any of the names on the lists of those dead or in custody?"

Crantz said, "Don't just stand there, Connelly. Find out! And bring back a pot of coffee and—" He turned to his Auror partner. "We got any clean mugs in the office?"

"Are you taking the piss?"

"I know cleaning spells," Remus said.

"You heard the professor. No mugs, just coffee. Leg it!" Crantz shook his head as Jerry sprinted down the corridor. "If I tried to do that I'd have a heart attack."

"And kill me, too," Stern said. "I'd die of shock to see you run."

Remus pointed to the two-way mirror and the prisoner on the other side. "Are you going to have Scabior transferred to St. Mungo's?"

Stern looked at Crantz, who said, "Why not? He might remember something. Connelly can fill out the paperwork."

"I'd be happy to assist," Remus said.

The Aurors traded glances.

Stern said, "Bet the professor's got tidy penmanship."

"Compared to yours, everybody's is tidy." Crantz clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Right this way."

By the time Jerry returned with the coffee the form was completed and signed, and Remus had finished cleaning the mugs.

Crantz held up the paperwork, two sheets off one of the mounds of parchment teetering on his desktop. "Good timing. Run this down to M.L.E."

Jerry set the coffeepot on the desk and waved his wand to send the forms winging out of the cubicle. "Budgell, Doherty, and Hewish are dead. They were identified after the battle." He wore the same look of regret Molly Weasley displayed when she talked about Bellatrix. It had nothing to do with loss of life.

"What about the fourth Snatcher?" Remus asked. "Did the Ministry keep employment records?"

Stern made a humph sound as he poured coffee. "Do giants shit in the woods?"

"I think they shit wherever they feel like it," Crantz said. "What'd you find, Connelly?"

Jerry pulled a slip of parchment out of a robe pocket. "This is Pryce's last known address." He handed it to Remus.

"Ahem," Crantz said. "Stern and I are the ones heading this task force."

Remus gave him the parchment. "Nymphadora and I have a friend who lives on that street."

"Off Knockturn Alley? Nice friend." Crantz downed the mug of coffee his partner handed him and stood. "We might pay him a visit."

 

They Flooed to Diagon Alley and walked from there. Remus noted that Crantz and Stern kept their wands held at the ready, although the dodgy patrons of the various shops in Knockturn Alley did nothing more than give them wary looks.

"We've made a lot of arrests on this street over the years," Crantz said nostalgically.

Stern snorted. "Remember when Frydays opened and we thought the owner didn’t know us yet, so it was safe to get lunch?"

"And the cook was Cyclops Brontes, the bloke we'd sent to Azkaban for using Dark magic to ensure repeat business at his former place of employment." Crantz shook his head. "That was a damn shame. Food smelled brilliant." He pointed to the alleyway between the Sleazy Kneazle and Black Rose Apothecary. "There's our destination."

The side street was narrow, crammed with buildings that made the Weasleys' home appear sturdy by comparison. Pryce's landlady, a bleary-eyed hag, led them up to his second floor flat complaining her tenant left without paying what he owed.

"I seen you before," the hag said to Remus as the others went inside.

He inclined his head. "Perhaps when I've visited your neighbour, Mundungus Fletcher."

" _Fletcher?_  'E sold me a defective cauldron—"

"Have you seen him lately?" Remus said quickly, before she could work herself into a rant.

"Not for weeks, and I got a Foe-Glass as big as me 'ead and a Sneakoscope what sounds like a train whistle. I'd 'ave known if that piece of dung came round 'ere."

"Thank you." Remus entered the flat, which was nothing more than a long, open space and a bath. Crantz was searching the bed area, Stern, the kitchen unit. Jerry had removed the cushions from the sofa and was going through the post left on a table. "Find anything?" Remus asked.

"Not even a dirty mag," Crantz said.

Stern sniggered. "And you were looking forward to confiscating it too." He looked at Remus and shook his head. "Nothing here either."

"I think I have something," Jerry said. He brought over a  _Quidditch Illustrated_ magazine.

"What's that? The swimsuit edition? Crantz'll take it," Stern said.

Jerry held up the magazine. "He bent the corner on the article about the match between Westgate and Falmouth and look—he circled the date. It's the day after tomorrow."

"Did Pryce list next of kin?" Crantz asked.

"His mother." Jerry smiled like it was Christmas. "She runs a guest house in Falmouth."

Stern said, "Good work, Connelly!"

Crantz told Remus, "Let's go get your wife."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So close, yet so far, it's tearing me apart . . ._ as usual, chapters come with a soundtrack. :D Hoobastank's song came to mind at the end, while Mamma Mia by ABBA was irresistible in Tonks' pov. She has a Muggle-born father, a love of music, and the lyrics were almost literal. _One more look and I forget everything_.  
>  The description of Remus I took from the first chapter of Once in a Blue Moon, and cyclops Brontes is one of the three (according to Hesiod) Zeus released to help defeat the Titans. The cyclops Odysseus outsmarted was Polyphemus (his name didn't work for me).


	6. Dark Hunt

 

 

She woke to the sound of crying. There was a pattern to it. Short cry—pause—short cry. Her sweetie was hungry. "Your turn," she mumbled, reaching out a hand. Instead of shaking a shoulder, she touched an envelope. Tere opened her eyes.

Ori's next cry was more of a whimper.

"Merlin, now you're lonely on top of being hungry. Poor baby." She rubbed a hand over her face and went to take care of his needs.

She rocked Ori as he fed. "I don't remember your father, but at least I know we took turns getting up. He wasn't all bad." That made her hopeful that, in time, when she could find a private Healer or specialty clinic to reverse the damage, at least some of her memories would be good.

Her eyes travelled around the room. The place was in dire need of colour—and a wireless radio. She knew why beer bottles had littered the floor. Drinking was the former occupants' only entertainment. There was nothing else to do. "They didn't have a precious boy to care for," Tere said to Ori. "I'm lucky. I shouldn't be envying those pigs their beer. It probably smelled and tasted skunky."

Ori seemed to enjoy the way she emphasised "skunky". He smiled. Milk dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Without thought, she used the hem of her tee to wipe his face. "I would use my shirt for a burp cloth." She lifted an arm and sniffed. "Deodorant Charm's still working, but I need a shower as well as a Dry-Clean Spell."

The thought of bathing Ori was only slightly less terrifying than the prospect of standing in the mildewed shower stall. His bathtub looked like a giant sand pail. She guessed the rationale was that babies would settle into a foetal position and be immersed in water to the chest or shoulders, keeping them warmer and feeling secure.

All the same, she could imagine Bellatrix curling her lip at the Tummy Tub.

_What do you think my grandson is, a mandrake? Are you bathing him or potting him?_

Tere laughed and said to Ori, "Mummy's going stir-crazy and needs to get out of the house." And if she went to the Sleazy Kneazle the moment Ori took his next nap, she'd be able to have a few sips of beer because the alcohol would dissipate before the next feeding.

Bathing Ori took a lot longer than expected. She kept worrying the water was too hot and then too cold. She finally dunked her elbow in and was satisfied with the temperature. She added a couple of drops of baby oil and carefully lowered Ori into the water. He was so cute sitting in his tub. She wished she had a camera, one that spat out a picture instantly. "We'll make new memories," she said, lifting Ori out of the water and into a blue and yellow hooded towel.

After she dried her son, it dawned on Tere that she didn't have anything but the black jeans and t-shirt she was wearing and her robes. She would have to enlarge the other baby towel—the one with brown cow spots.

"Oh, the indignities of motherhood," she muttered a few minutes later. The fact that she was lactating didn't make the situation easier. "I'll be out soon," she told Ori, who was gazing up at his spinning mobile of Heffalumps and Kneazles. In the bathroom, she pulled up the hood with its cloth horns and said, "Moo!" to her reflection before she stripped and cast  _Scourgify_ on the tiles to brave the shower.

 

Dressed and morphed, with Ori sleeping in his carrier beneath her robes, she crossed the street to the Kneazle. The nearer she drew, the less pub grub appealed. Had a health inspector passed through the doorway  _ever_?

The interior, while dim, appeared far cleaner than most of the patrons hunched over the tables. Freed house-elves in motley clothes worked as servers. That explained the cleanliness. Maybe the food was safe to eat.

A flash of pink caught her eye. A house-elf in a flowered child’s dress with a torn ruffle carried a tray of drinks to the back corner. Something in the way the elf held herself—the tilt of her chin—projected dignity and determination. Her job might be crappy, but she was doing it the best she could and holding her head high.

Tere noticed a wizard and witch heading toward the last open table in the house-elf's section and impulsively rushed to beat them to it. "No Wrackspurts here," she said, plunking her elbows on the tabletop and resting her chin on her linked hands.

The couple found another place to sit.

"Ma'am is ready to order?"

She turned her head toward the piping voice and met the round blue eyes of the server in the floral dress. She liked the elf's nose. It was shaped like a button mushroom. "Do you have anything that's nutritious?" she asked.

"Vegetable soup."

"Have you eaten it?" For all she knew it was days old and terrible, but the servers were told to push it.

The house-elf put a hand on her chest. "Gitta makes it fresh this morning."

"Thanks, Gitta. I'll have the soup and a half pint of bitter."

She appraised her fellow patrons while she waited for the food. The people around her were tense and guarded. They spoke in low tones impossible to overhear without using charms that would set off every security device in the pub.

"Ma'am's bowl is hot," Gitta said when she delivered the soup.

"You sound motherly. Do you have children?" Tere asked.

"Gitta serves a family until Miss Constance joins S.P.E.W. and Gitta receives clothes." Gitta reached down and tugged on the ruffle that drooped past her knee, slightly widening the tear.

_She didn't want to leave and vents her feelings on the dress._ "I'm sorry," Tere said, angry on Gitta's behalf. Whatever kind of do-gooder organisation S.P.E.W. was, its founder deserved to be spewed on for encouraging members to free house-elves against their will.

Later, when Gitta removed her empty bowl, Tere said, "Tell me it's none of my business if I'm prying, but I can't help wonder why you aren't working for a new family. There must be people who desperately need a housekeeper or a—a child minder." She placed a hand on her stomach.  _I could use some reliable live-in help. Someone I can trust. Someone who won't decide she'd rather make thousands of Galleons selling a Metamorphmagus baby on the black market._

"Gitta does not wants to just works _._ Gitta wants to  _belongs_. Gitta wants a new family." Round blue eyes started to shine. "So Gitta comes to the Kneazle and waits. Two years, Gitta waits."

The hopeful smile on Gitta's face made Tere nervous. Was she ready to take on a servant bound to her and Ori till death did them part?

A warlock drinking alone at the next table lifted his empty bottle of Firewhisky. " _OY!_ "

"Go to the bar," Tere said. "We're talking."

The warlock sneered. " _Talking?_ Batty isn't your personal house-elf, you stupid, fat bitch!"

"She is if she wants to be!" Tere was so furious she could have yanked the bottle out of the bastard's hand and cracked it over his skull. How dare he talk to her or any woman like that!

"I wants to be!" Gitta cried.

A weird shiver danced along Tere's spine. Ori's body jerked.

The warlock used his bottle as a gavel, pounding for emphasis. "I . . . want . . . Firewhisky!"

A house-elf with tired green eyes and a nose like a carrot appeared. "Does there be a problem?"

Tere cast a nonverbal  _Dormire_  charm. The warlock toppled forward, snoring. She said, "There's no problem. I'm leaving." She put all the Galleons she'd brought on the table. The manager elf—or whoever he was—could keep the change.

"I leaves too," Gitta said. "Mistress claims and I accepts." Her smile stretched from one pointed ear to the other.

The green-eyed elf asked Tere, "Is true?"

"Yeah." She'd agree to anything to get out of there. Ori was awake and squirming. "Nice to meet you. Goodbye."

On the way out, a wizard called, "Where's the fire, blondie?"

She answered, "No fire. Wrackspurts!"

 

Tere waited until she, Ori and Gitta were in the flat to ask, "What happened back there—the shiver thing—was that a Binding Spell?"

"Yes, Mistress."

That was what she'd thought. "Oh. I expected more drama."

Gitta smiled.

Tere returned it wryly. "Shows what I know." She took a deep breath. "I need help, I won't lie, but this." She gestured to her appearance. "This isn't me. And when I tell you who I am, if you'd rather be back at the Kneazle— " She shifted her features to normal and matched her hair colour to Ori's.

Gitta's jaw dropped. "Mistress is a Metamorphmagus!"

"And so is my son." She countered the Silencio and opened her robes. Ori's whiny noises stopped when she lifted him out of his carrier. "Orionis Cygnus Black. Ori, for short."

In a twinkling, Gitta was beside her, smoothing downy turquoise hair with her fingertip. "Master Ori is beautiful."

Was there a mum alive who could resist praise of her child? "Thank you. Please call him Ori, not master, and I'm just Tere, although in one of her many questionable life choices my mother named me Terebellum."

Gitta's eyes were glued to Ori's face. "Mistress Tere, may Gitta holds Master Ori?"

"If you'll sit in the rock—er." Between one syllable and the next, Gitta had disappeared and returned wearing a one-strap black sarong fashioned from what had been a pillowcase. Tere recognised the Egyptian cotton; otherwise, she would never have guessed the fabric's source. "Wow," she said. "That looks good on you. Could you make me one of those with a bed sheet?"

"Yes, Mistress." Gitta sat and held the baby. "Hullo, Master Ori. Gitta will helps cares for you." Through elfish magic, the rocker moved back and forth.

Tere blinked away tears as she pulled up a chair. "Merlin, it's such a relief it is to hear you say that."

"Tells Gitta."

How she could laugh and cry at the same time was a mystery. "You've heard people say, 'What a day I'm having', right? Well, they've got nothing on me."

 

 

The Bayview Guest House was located in a residential area of Falmouth renowned for sea views and award-winning gardens, according to Gurney, the young Auror who bounded over when they exited the public Floo inside the Shipwright Tavern.

Crantz said, "I'll remember that when I want to send my mum on holiday."

Trevithick, the other, obviously senior Cornish Auror, said, "What Gurney means is we're familiar with the street, and we'll Apparate you there."

"What's the layout of the house?" Stern asked.

"Eight guest rooms, four each on the first and second floors," Gurney replied. "Mrs. Pryce's quarters are on the ground floor, and according to the brochure I picked up at the tourist centre she serves dinner if guests choose, so there's probably a wine cellar."

"And likely an attic," Trevithick said.

Remus asked Gurney, "May I see the brochure?" He nodded his thanks and scanned the photos, fixing the Edwardian house and its garden in his memory.

"We wouldn't leave you behind," Jerry said. "Don't worry."

"I'm not. I want to save time. Most wizards can only transport one person during Side-Along Apparition." Remus looked to Trevithick for confirmation.

The Auror said, "One's all I can handle."

"So he tells his wife," Stern said to Crantz.

Crantz snorted. "Women hex when you ask them to double-up."

"Don't remind me." Stern cleared his throat. "You all set, Lupin?"

"Yes."

"All right, then," Trevithick said, "When we Apparate to Bayview House, we can expect most guests to be out of the—"

"Queen Mary Gardens and Gyllngvase Beach are close by," Gurney said, before catching his partner's steely eye and mumbling, "Pardon the interruption."

Trevithick exhaled sharply. "As I was saying, although most guests will be out of their rooms, there could be exceptions, so whoever searches the upper floors needs to take that into consideration."

"Connelly, that's you and Gurney," Crantz said. "Stern and I will take the quarters on the ground floor with Trevithick checking the cellar and Lupin guarding the perimeter." He faced Remus. "Hotels use Anti-Disapparating jinxes to keep guests from skivving off without paying the tariff. We need you to be ready in case Pryce jumps out a window."

"In case you find bodies, you mean," Remus said. Crantz and Stern were trained to prepare for worst-case-scenarios. "But you won't. They aren't dead."

"Of course they aren't," Jerry said stoutly. "If you like I'll stand watch outside."

Remus wished he could accept. "No. My hearing's more acute."

"Now that that's settled." Crantz jerked his head toward the doors leading to the street.

As he stood watch, every moment Remus spent listening for a shout or the sound of breaking glass was agony. With only eight days until the full moon, his wolfish nature strained against his human restraint. He wanted to hunt Pryce down, not "heel" and "stay".

" _Lupin! We've got him!"_

Crantz' spell-amplified shout of triumph brought Remus running. Not until he burst into the private lounge at the far end of the corridor beyond the entry hall did it register that the last word wasn't "them."

On the settee, Pryce and a crying elderly woman were bound with magical cords and handcuffed with wandless spell-prohibiting restraints.

Stern said, "They were listening to Quidditch Chat on the wireless. A loving mum and her darling little Death Eater spending quality time together, innocent of kidnapping."

"BALLOCKS!" Crantz hauled Pryce to his feet to yell in his face, "You left the battle to kidnap Tonks Lupin and her baby! Bellatrix Lestrange gave the order, but she's dead, and all you'll get is life in Azkaban if you don't tell us where they are!"

"I don't know!" Price cried. "Lestrange never told me to do nothing like that! Never!"

Short and weedy, the Snatcher-turned-Death-Eater reminded Remus of Peter in chilling ways. "What did she tell you to do?" he asked.

Before Pryce could speak, Trevithick entered the room. "They're not in the house, and there's no trace of Dark magic." With an apologetic look at Remus, he said, I sent Gurney and Connelly to search the gardens."

For a hiding place? A grave? Remus stared at his hands. Greyback had transformed fingernails into claws at will. Could he? In his mind, he pictured Tonks holding Teddy in a pit with no food and dwindling water.

Mrs. Pryce screamed when Remus lifted werewolf claws.

Her son pissed himself. The odour fouled the air. "I didn't kidnap nobody!" Pryce said. "Give me Veritaserum! Anything!"

"What did she tell you to do?" Remus's voice had a growl in it.

"Madam Lestrange gave me a packet to take to Gringotts. I gave it to the goblins, and then I went back and handed over the packet they sent in return. That's all I did." Pryce sobbed. "I swear to Merlin!"

"You want us to believe you didn't get curious?" Crantz asked.

Stern said, "You think we're stupid? That we don't know you opened the packets?"

"They had spells on them! I'd have lost a hand if I'd tried to open one!"

Trevithick said, "You could still lose a hand. Lupin here's not an Auror. He's the man whose wife and son have been kidnapped."

Mrs. Pryce shrieked, "Tell him about the name on the second packet, Algy! Tell him before he turns you into a monster!"

Crantz scoffed. "Your son's already a monster, but by all means,  _Algy._  Tell him about the name."

Pryce nodded vehemently. "There was a name on the second packet. It wasn't Lestrange, or Malfoy, or anyone I ever heard of, it—it was someone else," he said. "Someone named Terebellum Black."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, dun! When you're part of a couple, the relationship isn't always 50/50. Sometimes one partner receives more than the other. In this chapter, Tonks got a much longer pov, but it isn't every day a girl walks into a pub and walks out with a house-elf. I'll make it up to Remus next chapter. ;)
> 
> The Tummy Tub is an actual baby bathtub. I found it googling for bath towels. The Bayview was patterned on the Bosanneth Guest House in Falmouth, which I'm sure is "quality accommodation" as advertised and DE free (I make no promises about Wrackspurts). I originally considered using Winky for Tonks' elf, but a) no mother wants a Butterbeer swilling house-elf minding her baby and b) even if Winky was clean and sober, it was a little too convenient for her to happen to leave Hogwarts and go to the Kneazle looking for a new master, even though other free house-elves work there.


	7. Dark Kiss

 

 

Crantz looked at Remus. "Is the name familiar?"

"Only in that Terebellum is a quadrilateral of stars in the Sagittarius constellation." He took a step toward Pryce. "Did you question Bellatrix?"

"Never! She would've cursed me!"

Jerry strode into the room. "We found nothing in the gardens."

Remus had never doubted their search would be fruitless. He said, "I'll return home and ask my mother-in-law if she remembers a Terebellum Black."

"We'll take these two to London. See what Veritaserum shakes loose." Crantz cast a  _Silencio_  to mute Mrs. Pryce's squawking that she was innocent and had a business to run. He told Trevithick, "Use a communication fire if you get a lead from interviewing the guests. Otherwise, owl the report."

The men shook hands.

"I wish you the best of luck finding your family," Trevithick said to Remus. "If there's anything we can do—"

"I appreciate it." Remus headed for the door.

"Wait!" Jerry caught up to him in the entry. "If Mrs. Tonks has information, contact us immediately. Don't go off on your own."

"I'll contact you," Remus said. That was all he could promise.

 

Andromeda rushed in from the lounge when he returned. Her eyes were puffy and red rimmed. "Where have you been? Have you learned anything?"

He searched for a way to condense what had happened.

Somehow his loss for words helped Andromeda gain composure. She patted his arm. "Don't fret. We'll sort it out."

With her verbal nudging, he managed to summarise events in the time it took to brew a pot of tea. "The packet the goblin sent to Bellatrix had a different name on it," Remus said. "Terebellum Black. Is that a relative?"

Andromeda's teacup rattled against the saucer when it fell from her fingers. "What did you say?" Her voice was a thread of sound.

"Terebellum Black." Her pallor alarmed him. "Do you know who that is?"

"No.  _No_." It was if she were talking to herself, not answering the question. She walked out of the room like a sleepwalker.

Remus trailed Andromeda upstairs and watched as she took a green, leather-bound book from her bed table drawer.

"It can't be," she whispered, frantically turning the pages. When she found what she was looking for a keening noise ripped from her throat.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "Who is she?" Remus asked. "Who is Terebellum Black?"

Andromeda was lost in private torment. She shook the book like it was a person. " _NO!_  She's not yours, you goddamned evil bitch! SHE'S NOT YOURS!"

Remus pried the book from Andromeda's hands. It was diary. He read:

**Bella drank too much champagne at her wedding breakfast and demanded I come along to the loo and keep the skirts of her bridal robes from touching the floor.**

**After she finished answering the inconvenient call of nature and touched up her Complexion Charms, Bella drew me over to the mirror and said one day our daughters would stand shoulder to shoulder, and wouldn't they be lovely if they looked like us.**

**I said they'd be gorgeous, and mine would be named Nymphadora.**

**Bella laughed. She said that was a revoltingly Hufflepuff name and her daughter's would be appropriately Slytherin. Terebellum.**

The entry continued, but Remus didn't need to read further. He set the book on the bed and put his arms around Andromeda, trying to comfort her as she sobbed in pain and fury. When she calmed, he asked, "Is it possible Bellatrix has a child?"

"Not with Rodolphus." Lines of tears streaked her face. "Dora's Comet Two Sixty is gone, Remus. I noticed after you left. I searched the house and it isn't here."

"Kidnappers could have taken it."

"Not with the anti-theft wards. We have to face the truth. Ted didn't tell anyone the counter spells. It was Dora. She took the broomstick, and Teddy, and she flew away!"

He detected a flaw in her reasoning. "Memory Charms require subtlety Bellatrix lacked."

"You didn't know my sister. There was nothing she wouldn't have done to gain Voldemort's favour. Nothing." Andromeda's face twisted. "Hurting me would've made the triumph sweeter."

Acceptance brought an initial surge of relief that Nymphadora and Teddy weren't hostages. It quickly died away. If Andromeda was right, his wife's memory was altered. She thought her name was Terebellum Black, that Bellatrix and Rodolphus were her parents. And who did she believe was her husband? Was he alive? Were they together? Remus's jaw clenched. Speculation would lead nowhere productive.

"We have to find her," he said. Spells could be undone, especially if they were cast in haste during a battle. Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't Gilderoy Lockhart. She didn't have his expertise.

Andromeda took the handkerchief he conjured and wiped her face. "I'll go to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix may have confided in Narcissa."

"Come to London first. Talk with Crantz and Stern. It's possible they have a new lead."

 

But they didn't.

The Pryces, under Veritaserum, had recounted the same story. Crantz, after hearing Andromeda's theory, told her they'd planned to question the Malfoys and would be delighted to escort her to Wiltshire.

Remus wished them luck. He was going to Gringotts Bank.

"Connelly will tag along," Crantz said. "Flash his shiny badge if needed."

Once they reached Diagon Alley, Jerry told Remus, "I would have offered to back you up, but I thought it would be better if one of them gave the order."

"I understand." Jerry handled Auror politics much better than Nymphadora, who had rolled her eyes over memos with statements like  _there is no "I" in team._

At Gringotts, goblins in livery flanked the bronze doors leading to the bank's marbled hall.

"Good riddance to Probity Probes," Jerry said.

Inside, end-of-the-day customers stood in queues before the long counter.

"Which one should we join?" Remus asked.

"I can't choose," Jerry said. "Mum says I suffer from Wrong-Queue Syndrome. Whatever queue I pick will have twice as long a wait as any other. Guaranteed."

"Nonsense."

"I'll prove it," Jerry said. "We'll stand in different queues."

Remus deliberately chose the longest. He watched in disbelief as Jerry's queue—the shortest—failed to move while his steadily progressed.

_Told you,_ Jerry's expression said, when Remus reached the counter and waived for him to come over.

Jerry showed the goblin his badge. "We need information about the transactions of one of your recently deceased clients: Bellatrix Lestrange."

The goblin shook his head. "Secrets go beyond the grave. I cannot break the code."

"Can you tell us general information—confirm if someone has a vault, and whether that vault's deep or close to the surface?" Remus asked.

The goblin considered for a moment. "Yes, sir. The name?"

"Terebellum Black."

An account book appeared on the counter before the goblin, who quickly scanned the pages. The book disappeared. "Ms. Black's vault is not deep, yet it is not so near the surface as those of other patrons."

In other words, it was new yet held a substantial amount of gold. Remus asked, "Has Ms. Black ever accessed her vault?"

"N—that is not permitted for me to say. Good afternoon." The goblin beckoned the next customer.

"We should've asked him more questions," Jerry said as they walked away.

Elation filled Remus to the point of bursting. He wanted to shout,  _"Yes!"_  and pump a fist in the air, but restrained himself to grinning like a fool. "The goblin started to say  _no._ Terebellum Black has never accessed her vault. Don't you understand what that means?"

Jerry's brows drew together. "Tonks doesn't know Bellatrix created the account?"

"No. She has to know about the vault, otherwise, there was no reason for Bellatrix to commission it or transfer gold." It was like being a teacher again, waiting for a student to comprehend.

It didn't take long. Jerry beamed. "She'll come back to get the gold!"

"And I'll be here when she does." He imagined Nymphadora, eyes dark with sadness, hesitantly entering Gringotts with Teddy cradled in her arms.

"You think she'll recognise you?" Jerry asked.

Remus's daydream of a tearful reunion abruptly ended. "I'll have to wait and see."

"l’ll have a word with the manager. Make him aware of the reason for our ongoing presence." He pointed to columns at the side of the hall. "That angle gives us a direct view of the entrance."

Remus deferred to Jerry's experience, although he would have preferred to camp beside the door. Minutes passed slowly. Every time the bank door opened Remus leaned forward, ready to spring out of the chair the goblins had provided. The only other seats available were marble benches.

"Surveillance is hours of wait followed by minutes of excitement," Jerry said. "Patience is the key, Instructor Moody used to say."

"Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet," Remus said. "According to Rousseau."

Jerry chuckled. "Tonks said 'patience is the virtue I want everyone else to have'."

 

The bank eventually closed, and Remus realised his own patience would have to stretch to the following morning. Fortunately, goblins had no bank holidays and opened for business seven days a week.

Andromeda was at the Auror Office in Crantz and Stern's cubicle. For her, they'd cleared a tower of files off the visitor's chair.

"We were just trying to convince Mrs. Tonks that we should do our debriefing over dinner," Stern said.

"And I told them that wasn't necessary."

Remus wasn't the only one who picked up on Andromeda's lack of conviction. Crantz said, "Tonks loves Jimmy's Pizza."

"Yes, I know." Andromeda's eyes misted. "Dora brought pizzas home sometimes." She looked at Remus. "What do you think? Would it be all right to go?"

"We need to eat," Remus said, "but perhaps another restaurant—one where questions wouldn't arise—would be better." Jimmy Durbin, the owner of the pizzeria that bore his name, had known Nymphadora from the summers she spent with her Muggle grandmother. His family lived in the same neighbourhood, and he would ask where Tonks and Teddy were.

Jerry recommended a pizzeria they could walk to.

While Crantz and Stern polished off the last slices of margherita and Italian pepperoni, Spanish chorizo, and prosciutto pizzas, Andromeda took a sip of her red wine and told Remus, "Cissy—how strange it sounds to call her that again—swore Bellatrix never told her any plans. Our sister didn't trust her anymore, accused Cissy of putting her family before the Dark Lord."

Remus smiled faintly. "Which she did."

"Yes. Something that gives me hope."

Hope that in time she and Narcissa could reconcile their differences? Anything was possible.

Crantz said Lucius Malfoy also claimed ignorance, stating that Bellatrix despised him for losing Voldemort's goodwill.

Remus shared what he and Jerry discovered.

Andromeda immediately offered to come to the bank the next day.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks," Jerry said, "but—for now, at least—I think it's best if we limit the number of operatives. For safety reasons."

"You don't think she'd hurt me?" Andromeda's stricken expression earned apologetic glances from all three Aurors.

Stern said, "She wouldn't remember you're her mother."

"And we don't know what Bellatrix told her about you." Crantz poured more wine into her glass. "Don't worry. Someone will be on surveillance duty at all times. Gil and I will take the afternoon shift."

"I'll be there all day," Remus said.

No one suggested otherwise.

That night, he camped out on the sofa in the lounge. The bedroom was haunted with memories. He lay awake for hours, thinking about his family. He had to believe they were somewhere safe, and if they weren't on their own, whatever person or persons they were with treated them kindly.

When at last he slept, a dream jerked him awake. A shadowy figure had watched Nymphadora as she slept, as she fed Teddy, and as she undressed.

Memories and fears created the nightmare. He knew it. That didn't stop adrenaline from pumping through his veins.

Remus closed his eyes and concentrated. Weak as it felt to rely on magical sleep aids, he wouldn't do Nymphadora any good if he was too groggy to notice when she entered the bank. He cast a Morpheus Charm in order to rest without dreams.

 

The next morning, he awoke to the smell of bacon. In the kitchen, Andromeda had prepared a full English breakfast and a pot of coffee. "Gringotts opens in fifty-six minutes," she said.

"I won't be late." He tucked into the plate of food set before him, quickly eating enough to satisfy before heading up the stairs to shower and change.

Jerry was waiting on the bank steps. "The doors won't open for another twenty minutes. I'm going to walk to the corner newsstand and pick up a Quidditch mag and the  _Daily Prophet._ Is there anything else you'd like to read?"

"No, thank you." Remus walked up to stand in front of the massive doors, got restless, and went back down the steps. He paced back and forth on the pavement. The movement was rhythmic and soothing.

_Stride, stride, stride—turn—stride, stride, stride—_

He turned and felt a hand grip his shoulder, a supple weight press against his arm.

"Hey, watch what you're . . .."

The woman's voice trailed away, but Remus had heard enough to recognise who he had almost knocked off her feet. He turned and met a startled gaze.

_Nymphadora!_

Her hair was long and black as the clinging dress she wore. The recognition in her eyes made his heart leap into his throat.

"Remus Lupin," she said, and kissed him.

Her lips were warm, her breath scented with chocolate and mint. He reached out to hold her close and froze.

She'd cast a Body-Bind Curse _._

Nymphadora wrapped her arms around his neck as though they were embracing and put her lips to his ear. "You people never give up, do you? Were you waiting for me, trying to trap me? And to think I decided just this morning to take the money and run."

She nipped his earlobe. "Well, guess what? I've changed my mind. I'll stick around for a while. Make Bellatrix proud." Her lips grazed his cheek. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

The body bind curse didn't affect his eyes. He kept them trained on her face, willing her to look at him.  _Nymphadora, I love you!_

Her troubled gaze belied her confident tone. "Stop it," she whispered. "You don't care about me. You wanted to use me." She raised a hand to her temple, fingertips rubbing circles. "But I'm not so messed up I can't do damage in return." Nymphadora leaned in, and for a breathless moment he thought she was going to kiss him again.

She jerked her head back, her features contorted. " _Damn,_ it hurts. Happy, Wolfie? Chat time's over. Goodbye."

He stood powerless to do anything but watch as she used a Disillusionment Charm and vanished.

 

 

She put one foot in front of the other, gritting her teeth against the pain. Her headache was vicious and constant, boring into her skull. Nausea rose. Tere clutched her middle.  _Oh, please, don't let me vomit. Wolfie might smell it and track me._

Unsteadily, she made her way to Knockturn Alley, tears blurring her vision. There was something disturbingly familiar about Remus Lupin. The scent of his skin, the feel of his lips.

It was if someone stabbed a poker into her left eye. Tere dropped to her knees and became visible. " _Gitta!_ " she cried.

Comforting arms enfolded her. "Gitta helps," she heard. "Gitta takes care of Mistress."

In a twinkling, they were in the bedroom of the flat. The sight of Ori's cot broke Tere. "Oh, God, I made you leave Ori. I made you leave my baby!" She was a terrible person, a horrible mother.

"Shhh, Master Ori sleeps, and Mistress Tere will sleep. Shhh."

Tere fell into soothing darkness.

 


	8. Dark Reunion

 

_She turned the corner of the building and barrelled into a man, sending them to the pavement. The wizard took the brunt of the fall. Tere looked down into amused brown eyes and said, "Merlin, I'm such a klutz. Are you hurt?" He gave a chuckle and smiled. It was a great smile, transforming handsome, intellectual, features into something that made her face heat._

" _I think there's a lump on the back of my head, but it was worth it," he murmured._

_She pretended the husky tone didn't affect her, gingerly sliding her fingers through overlong, grey-streaked brown hair. She licked her dry lips. "No lump, so I think you'll be fine. I'm sorry I knocked you over. May I help you up?" She tried to rise, but his gloved hands came up to hold her arms._

" _You can help me by . . .."_

_Pulse racing, she bent to whisper, "What?"_

" _Kissing it better."_

_She froze. Staring down at the man who was older, by the fine lines around his eyes and the grey in his hair, Tere knew she should wrench herself away and tell him to go to hell. Instead, she pressed her mouth to lips that were firm and soft, gentle yet persuasive. It was the most amazing kiss. She was seized by the urge to pin him down and snog his brains out._

"Mistress?"

Tere jack-knifed into a sitting position, heart racing. Dear Merlin, she'd had another Lupin dream! "Is it Ori? Is it time for a feeding?" From the light in the room it was morning. He'd slept in, the little darling.

"Yes, mistress," Gitta said.

"OK, thanks for waking me." She'd become a heavy sleeper since that day at the bank. If Gitta didn't shake her when Ori started to fret, it took strident cries to wake her up.

Once she settled into the rocker in the lounge and began feeding, Tere faced the biggest source of guilt: thoughts of a man who wasn't her husband. The last three nights brought vivid dreams, and in the daytime, too, images of Remus Lupin flashed into mind.  _Lupin with a quill in his hand, filling out a crossword . . . Lupin reading a book . . . Lupin in the shower. . . ._

When she'd tried to concentrate and figure out whether the visions were real memories or not, her head ached so terribly she'd cried for Gitta to put her into a healing sleep. She'd avoided analysing her thoughts since then.

"It has nothing to do with wanting to see the man naked," she told Ori. "Mummy's not good at handling pain."

A chuckle sounded that didn't come from her son. Tere looked over at the kitchen area. "At least you're making coffee while you laugh at me." She sniffed. "Smells yummy."

"Is mocha java decaf."

Tere put a hand over Ori's exposed ear. "Don't say the D-word in front of the baby!"

Gitta shook her head, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Decaf is not a bad word."

"It's bad to me. I love caffeine."

"Mistress remembers this?"

"No." It was one of the legion of things she just knew.

Tere kissed Ori's plump cheek when it was time to change sides halfway through feeding. "But I love you more, sweetie."

He cooed, further cementing her belief that he was the most brilliant child on the planet.

Once Ori's needs were taken care of and he lay on his play mat gazing up at flying dragons, she plopped down onto a cushion beside a low table transfigured from a wooden chair and reached for the mug waiting for her. "If I tell myself this has caffeine, will I do things faster with more energy?"

"You can tries." Gitta served fruit salad with yoghurt and placed the  _Daily Prophet_ onto the table.

"Anything interesting in that?" Tere asked, dipping a strawberry into the yoghurt. She'd rather read a book than the paper competing with the _Quibbler_  for most Harry Potter stories printed.

"There is no article saying vandals destroys Hestia Jones' front garden."

Tere stabbed a piece of mango. "That's because the vandal didn't destroy it. She did something worse—she transformed the prissy formal garden into a bank of wildflowers." She glanced across the table to find Gitta watching her with raised eyebrows. "What? I altered the plan? So? I think on my feet. When I got there, it was the better thing to do, like with Diggle and Figg."

The original plan to humiliate Dedalus Diggle by sending neighbours invitations to a booze up wasn't feasible—he was long past those days—but that ridiculous top hat he always wore made him the perfect host for a Mad Hatter Tea Party. And using an Aversion Charm on Arabella Figg's cats would defeat the point—she'd never know someone caused them to run away. A lawn transformed into catnip was a different story. No way would anyone think that happened spontaneously.

"Maybe Jones only rated a mention on the gardening page," Tere said. She picked up the  _Prophet_ and read the front headline:

**THOUSANDS TO ATTEND HOGWARTS MEMORIAL**

_Thousands will mourn, and not one of them will shed a tear for my mother._  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Do you know what this means?"

"No, mistress."

It meant after a stop by the Owl Post Office to send Rubeus Hagrid's "must love monsters" profile to the Hot for Hags dating service, she could do anything she wanted, go anywhere she chose without looking over her shoulder wondering if she'd cross paths with an Order member bent on tracking her down—if she'd come face to face with Remus Lupin.

"It means we get to go to the park and have a picnic," she said. "Enjoy the sunshine."

Gitta's eyes widened. "We?"

"I wouldn't go without you."

 

The service passed in a blur for Remus. There were so many faces, so much sorrow. Next to him, Andromeda continually mopped her tears with a handkerchief as Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt each spoke words that comforted and heartened by turn, both vowing never to forget those who paid the ultimate price to defeat evil.

A memorial fountain was being commissioned to replace the monstrosity that once degraded the Ministry atrium. Future visitors would be able to read the names of those lost during the wars and reflect on their courage and sacrifice.

Remus blinked away the tears burning the corners of his eyes. His name and Nymphadora's would be carved on the list of the fallen if not for the schemes of a Death Eater and a werewolf. What Fenrir and Bellatrix meant for evil had turned to good. He had to remember that. Nymphadora was alive, and soon their family would be reunited. He would hold his son again.

"Molly invited us to come to the Burrow," Andromeda said when the service was over.

"I can't," he said. "I have to return to London. If there's a day when Nymphadora lets down her guard, a day when she feels safe to go out, it's today."

"Of course. Everyone will understand." Andromeda hugged him. "Send your Patronus if you find her."

"I will."

Remus avoided the Hogsmeade crowds and Apparated to the street outside the Inverness Floo Station, travelling to London from there. He tried to think like Nymphadora. Where would she go on a sunny day?

The park where she first said "I love you," the place they'd brought Snuffles was crowded with young families and couples walking their dogs or simply enjoying the day. Picnic blankets dotted the grassy central area. He made a circuit of the park, scanning every face.

And heard a joyously unmistakeable laugh.

He turned toward the sound and saw a woman in jeans with long black hair kneeling on a blanket, ruffling the fur of a diminutive poodle. A shouted, "Fynnegan Lukas Morrison!" sent the animal scurrying off like an errant child.

Remus walked forward.

"Wasn't he a cute doggie?" he heard Nymphadora say. He stopped in his tracks; struck by the realisation she might be talking to a man she believed was her husband. As she sat back on her heels to wave at the owner calling her apologies, he had a clear view of her companion.

It was a house-elf—not a wizard—holding Teddy.

_My son._ He almost ran forward, filled with happiness and relief, but the encounter at Gringotts had taught him a lesson. Remus cast a Shield Charm and approached with caution.

"Mistress Tere," the elf said, pointing.

Nymphadora turned her head and stared at him with round eyes before jumping to her feet. He felt the air ripple around him. She'd cast a spell. He realised which one when she said, "Remus! You confused the time. We thought you weren't going to join us."

He drew his brows together as though under a Confundus Charm.

She came and took his arm, leading him to the blanket. "Have a seat. I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Gitta, and my son Ori."

Tonks—Tere, Teddy—Ori: Bellatrix was clever to choose false names reminiscent of the true ones. "Pleased to meet you," he said to the elf, sitting next to her in order to be close to Teddy, whose eyes were currently brown as his hair. "How old is your son?" he asked, trying to control his emotions.

Another ripple of magical energy passed over him. "Don't try to talk," Nymphadora said. "You've lost your voice you're so hungry."

She took Teddy from the house-elf. "Gitta, he missed the picnic so we owe Remus a dinner. If you Apparate him to the flat while I walk with Ori—"

"Mistress, I cannot."

"He gives his permission." Nymphadora smiled at him. "Don't you, Remus? You don't mind being  _tied up_ for the day. You want to come home with us."

It wasn't the reunion he'd envisioned, but they would be together. He'd find out where his family lived, listen to what Nymphadora had to say, and do some talking of his own.

He returned her smile and nodded.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning memory/dream was adapted from the incident in chapter six of A Wolf in the Moonlight.


	9. Dark Visitor

 

 

In case any more Order members were on the prowl that day, Tere changed her appearance to walk down Diagon and Knockturn Alleys without attracting notice. The instant she closed the door to the ground floor entrance to her flat, she morphed back to normal. "It's because Lupin's confused enough as it is," she said to Ori. "Not because I like the way he looks at me." Despite Lupin's attractiveness, he made her nervous. He was too intense.

Her pulse raced as she walked upstairs. What if Gitta hadn't taken the hint to tie him up? What if he was so confused he thought they were on a date and kissed her in greeting? What would she do?

There was only one way to find out.

The first thing she saw was Lupin in her chair, unbound. An image flashed into mind of her sitting on his lap.

_Oh, Merlin!_

"Hullo," she said. "Don't get up. I'll take Ori into the other room to feed him." She lifted the baby out of the carrier.

Lupin acted as though he didn't hear. He strode forward to unfasten the carrier straps and then rubbed her shoulders. His hands were warm and gentle.

She bit her lip.  _What big eyes you have to see that I fastened the straps too tight._

"Ta, thanks," she whispered, edging away. His touch felt shamefully good.

Lupin pointed to the rocker and went to sit on the floor beside the low table where Gitta poured tea.

"He asks you to stays," Gitta said.

"Yeah. I got that." Tere sat in the rocker, self-consciously lifting her shirt to undo the snap on her nursing bra. After Ori was settled, she said, "What I don't understand is why our guest wasn't  _stationary_ when I came in."

Gitta frowned. "House-elves does not casts such spells. If you wishes him to stays put, you must does it."

Tere's gaze went to Lupin, who sipped his tea calmly. The  _Confundus_  Charm seemed to work well enough to keep him a tame wolf. She could always use an  _Incarcerous_ later, if needed.

Ori cooed.

Lupin smiled with such tenderness, it took a few seconds for Tere to realise the baby wasn't nursing anymore. Flames of embarrassment danced across her cheekbones while she covered exposed skin and shifted Ori to feed on the other side. She snuck a peek at Lupin. He was holding out his mug for Gitta to pour more tea. Maybe he hadn't noticed.

She took the opportunity to study him closely. He had a handsome profile, but not so good-looking he'd check his appearance in every reflective surface like a male model. Smile lines fanned out from the corners of eyes so light they resembled amber—eyes that flickered to hers and caught her staring.

Her face heated.

He lifted his mug, eyebrows raised in question.

"He asks if you wants tea," Gitta said.

"No, thank you, and our guest doesn't need an interpreter. I understand what he's trying to say."

Lupin's mouth curved upward as he continued to hold her gaze.

Gitta asked, "What does he says now?"

His expression softened.

Tere could almost hear him say three short, damning words. "I need to change the baby," she said, using her finger to depress her skin and gently break the suction of Ori's mouth. He immediately tried to latch back on and rooted against the material of her shirt when she jerked the fabric down. His grunt of protest was clearly audible as she rushed into the other room.

In the bedroom, she let Ori finish nursing. Tears rolled down her face. Her headache was back, pounding at her temples. She rocked back and forth.

"Mistress?"

Gitta stood beside the bed and Tere didn't remember her entering the room. She looked at Ori. He had stopped feeding and was batting at a strand of hair dangling over his face. Stars and stones! How long had she sat trying to clear her mind of thoughts that caused pain? She didn't know, and that scared the hell out of her. What if she'd dropped her precious baby?

Tere placed Ori onto the coverlet. "Will you change him, please? I—I think I'm going to be sick."

She lurched into the bathroom where her heaving stomach drove her to her knees. "Gitta, I'm taking a shower," she called through the door after rinsing out her mouth and chewing a brushing/flossing mint.

Warm water comforted. The temptation to stand beneath the spray indefinitely was hard to resist. Only the thought of Lupin, and the need to have a clear head to deal with him, made her switch the temperature to cold.

Gitta had laid out her black sarong. They were dressing for dinner, apparently. Did Ori have on baby wizard robes?

In the lounge, Gitta stirred whatever was in the saucepan on the cooker while Lupin held Ori, who wore a blue striped romper that matched his current hair colour and "talked" in his baby language of vowels with the occasional g-sound thrown in. Lupin nodded his head as though he agreed completely with whatever Ori was saying.

The tug on her heartstrings was so great Tere swayed on her feet. She blinked away tears. What was wrong with her? The enemy was in her chair, rocking her baby. Why didn't she rush over to snatch Ori from him?

Dimly, she heard Gitta ask, "Mistress is better now?"

"Yes." She put on a smile. "Whatever you're making smells delicious."

"Is chicken curry. It must cooks for a while longer and then Gitta will stirs in yoghurt before serving."

"Mmm." Tere went over to Lupin. "You minded the baby. That . . .."  _Completely freaked me out._ "Was kind." She bent to pick up Ori, excruciatingly aware of the man's closeness and the way he watched her every move. Her toes curled. Weirdly, bare feet made her feel more naked than not wearing a bra.

"I will spreads a quilt on the floor," Gitta said.

Tere placed Ori on his tummy and plopped down to watch him lift his head and chest.

Lupin sat on the other side of the quilt. If she stretched out her hand, she would touch him. Not that she wanted to. "This is Ori's exercise," Tere said. "And if we're lucky, he'll—" She broke off to clap when Ori rolled. "Yes! What a display of talent!"

Ori chuckled.

Tere peered sideways at Lupin. He smiled as proudly as if Ori was his son. She tried to imagine Severus Snape beaming in such a way and couldn't do it. Her mental image of her husband arched a brow, unimpressed.

She shivered. The dreams—the images that kept flashing into her mind—what if they were real? What if she'd been trapped in an unhappy marriage, vulnerable to seduction? Lupin wasn't the Casanova type, practised and slick. His appeal was subtler. More compelling.

All of a sudden, a metre seemed far too short a distance to have between them. "Gitta needs help setting the table," Tere said. "Would you mind?"

He immediately rose to his feet.

"You is such a nice man to helps Gitta," Tere heard the elf say. She rolled her eyes. Of course Lupin was nice, he was confused! If more women used Confundus Charms there would be no need for marriage counselling. Husbands would gladly assist with housework and child minding, give their wives back rubs and full body massages using almond oil because it had a pleasant smell and was completely edible, although how she knew . . ..

Ori worked his way onto his stomach again, a welcome distraction from thoughts that triggered a headache to pound behind her left eye socket. She praised his accomplishment and then put him in the bouncer placed next to the table so he could join them for dinner.

The green chicken curry with jasmine rice was a culinary masterpiece. Tere asked questions about the ingredients and preparation.

Gitta answered patiently, explaining how she pounded the fresh herbs and preferred Thai aubergine. Then she asked, "You says Mr. Lupin loses his voice because he is hungry. When he finishes dinner, will his voice returns? Gitta thinks there is much for you to talks about."

The dull ache at Tere's temples intensified into stabbing pain at the thought. "Unfortunately, he has laryngitis."

"In the park you says it was hunger."

"I was mistaken." Thankfully, Ori was fretting for his dinner and she had an excuse to leave the room. She couldn't be expected to pull down her sarong in front of Lupin!

A few minutes later, Gitta walked in. "Mr. Lupin helps me clear the dishes."

"Thanks to the Confundus Charm," Tere said. "Without it, he would've gone to get the evening paper and not come back until they were done."

"He would still helps. Mr. Lupin is a good man. Gitta can tells." Gitta came over to sit on the mattress beside Tere. Her legs hung over the side like a child's. "Gitta also can tells Mistress is afraid to talks to him. What is you fears he will says?"

_I love you._

"Look," Tere said. "I'm not afraid, I'm tired, and my head's about to explode from this damn headache. I'll talk to Lupin in the morning, all right? Go tell him. He won't mind sleeping in the lounge if you use a Comfort Charm on the floor."

"All right, mistress."

Gitta exited the bedroom as Teri prepared Ori for bed. Angel that he was, he didn't fuss a bit in his cot and went right to sleep.

She went into the lounge. Gitta and Lupin were playing cards. Tere said, "If you need to use the bathroom, go right ahead. I'll be sleeping."

Lupin mouthed, "Good night."

"Good night," said Tere. "If you want to take a shower feel free to borrow my soap and shampoo."

Lupin inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"And if you promise not to laugh, you can use my bath towel. It's the white cowhide looking one with brown spots.

Lupin smiled.

Tere left before she apologised for the hood with cloth horns.

 

 

Thinking about his wife distracted Remus from keeping track of discards. Gitta soon called "gin".

"Your mind is elsewhere," the elf said. "You wishes to showers, perhaps?"

He wished to walk into the room where his wife and child slept. He nodded.

She said, "Gitta fixes your bed while you is gone."

It required willpower to stroll across the room when he wanted to run. A night orb glowed in the bedroom, giving off enough light for him to make out the cot and double bed.

In the bathroom, the first thing he noticed was the cow towel. It was Teddy's, enlarged to parent-sized. Remus turned on the water and then quickly cast a Patronus Charm.

_I'm with Nymphadora and Teddy. They're fine. Don't send your Patronus. We need time alone._

It wasn't the message Andromeda wanted to hear, but at least she could take comfort her family was all right.

He undressed and cast a Dry-Cleaning Spell to freshen his clothing before stepping beneath the spray of water. Like every other surface in the rundown flat, the tiles in the stall were meticulously clean. Gitta's handiwork, he was sure. Not for the first time, Remus was grateful that a house-elf and not a Dark wizard cared for his wife and son.

As he showered, Remus reflected on what he had observed while pretending to be confused and unable to speak. Teddy was thriving and unharmed by his adventures. Holding him had been a dream come true. Never would he take for granted the joy of being a father.

In contrast to their son, Nymphadora suffered from the Memory Charms inflicted by Bellatrix. He wasn't a Healer; he couldn't gauge the extent of the damage. He took heart that Nymphadora's crippling headaches only seemed to occur around him. Repressed memories caused pain, but they still existed. They weren't erased.

He decided to sleep in his trousers and left his socks and shirt on his shoes on an empty bathroom shelf.

The risk of alarming Nymphadora was too great, so he didn't do more than bid her a quiet, "Sweet dreams, love," before crossing to stand at the side of Teddy's cot.

"Is he awake?"

Remus froze at the sound of Nymphadora's sleep-husky voice. Should he answer? Leave?

There was a rustle of sheets. Slender arms slid around his waist. Warm, silken skin pressed against his back. "You didn't have to get up."

Two things registered at once. She was sleepwalking—and not wearing a nightdress. He said quietly, "Return to bed. Teddy's asleep."

Lips pressed against his skin. "You come with me."

He slowly turned. "Nymphadora, are you sure?"

She leaned against him. "Mmhmm."

" _Mistress?"_

The elf had good intentions and rotten timing. Remus said, "I'm putting her to bed."

Nymphadora abruptly pushed against his chest. "What the feck's going on?"

"You were sleepwalking," he said.

His wife crossed her arms across her chest. Her eyes were shocked and accusing. "You can talk—and you called me some other woman's name!"

She seemed more angered by the second transgression. He said, "I used a Shield Charm, and I called you the name you were given at birth."

"No. My name is Terebellum Black."

"Your true name is Nymphadora Tonks Lupin," Remus said. "You're my wife."

 


	10. Dark Desire

 

 

Remus expected Nymphadora to recoil in anger. His declaration was blunt, to say the least.

Instead, her expression softened. "You really believe that."

He watched her turn away to dress, uncertain how to take her calm response. "It's the truth," he said.

She fastened the button on her jeans and pulled on a black t-shirt. "Let's talk in the other room. Ori's been sleeping six hours between feedings the last couple of nights, and I don't want break the streak."

Remus didn't desire to wake the baby, either. He retrieved his shirt from the bathroom and entered the lounge.

Gitta was making tea. "You wishes a cup, Mister Lupin?"

"It's Remus, and yes, thank you."

"You is welcome, Mister Remus."

Nymphadora stood in the centre of the room, arms hugging her middle, but not crossed defensively. He took hope from that. "I can't begin to understand what it's been like for you," he said, "dealing with what happened, everything you were told, but if you'll listen—"

"No. You listen. Because they're using you, exactly the way they tried to use me."

Remus could have argued, but didn't. He needed to hear Nymphadora's misconceptions in order to counter them. He asked, "How?"

"Simple. The Order knew their Metamorphagus mum and baby needed a daddy to make them happy pawns." Her brief smile was wry. "And they chose the perfect wizard for the job."

_Perfect?_ His heart beat faster. "What do you mean?"

Nymphadora closed the distance between them. "I don't remember much," she said. "Bits and pieces of memories in the day, dreams at night. I tried to pretend they weren't real, but after being with you, I know they are." Her eyes misted. "I know we loved each other."

"Always." He kissed her with all the tenderness in his heart. "Nothing will separate us again." He would make sure of it.

She nodded. "We'll leave. Go so far away they'll never find us. Be a family, you, me, Ori, and Gitta. I have money," she said when he opened his mouth to say they were already a family. "It's at another Gringotts. We'll travel there as soon as we can pack." Tears streamed down her face. "My mother's dead, and I can't live for her anymore. Nothing I do will change the past. We'll forget it and make a new life together."

If he'd been the man she thought he was, he would have jumped at the offer. He cupped her face in his hands. "What about your memories?"

"We'll find a clinic—a Healer—it doesn't matter."

He'd seen how she suffered. "It does." He bent to kiss Nymphadora again, casting a wandless spell that was taken in with her next breath, circumventing any possible Shield Charm. She fell into his arms.

"Mistress Tere!" Gitta crossed the room in a twinkling. "What has you done?"

Remus gently lowered his wife to the floor and sat next to her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "She isn't hurt, she's in a deep sleep." He looked into round, troubled eyes and said, "It was the only thing I could do. She wouldn't listen." Stubborn and bold as any Gryffindor, his love fixed on a course and charged ahead.

"I is listening." Gitta's tone made it clear she expected answers.

He gave them, explaining what had happened. "You've lived in the wizarding world, you read the  _Prophet_ ," he said. "You must be aware of the lies and manipulation Bellatrix Lestrange was capable of."

Gitta said, "But Mistress has papers."

"Forged. Andromeda has the true birth certificates and a lifetime's photographs from Nymphadora's birth to Teddy's." Remus extended his hand. "I'll give a Wizard's Handshake—make an Unbreakable Vow if you like—to prove every word I've spoken is true."

A long-fingered hand clasped his. The muscles in his body tensed and then relaxed.

Gitta released his hand. "Elves gives truth-shakes, too." She patted Nymphadora's arm. "Poor Mistress, to be hurts by such an evil woman. How is we to helps her?"

"I'm not sure." His focus had been finding his family. He hadn't given thought to what would happen afterward. "There's St. Mungo's."

"Babies does not belongs in the Spell Damage ward," Gitta said with a shake of her head. "You can brings people here. A Healer. Madam Andromeda and the photographs."

Remus agreed separating Nymphadora from Teddy would do more harm than good. Using familiar faces and pictures to help jog memory was an excellent idea with one drawback. "This flat's too small," he said. "No offence, but someplace larger in London, in a more . . . convenient . . . location would better suit our needs."

"You has somewhere in mind?"

"Yes. It's a grim old place, but with your aid we could make one of the larger bedrooms a comfortable haven." He glanced around. "We'll need to shrink the furnishings and send messages, make certain preparations." There were so many things to do in such a short period of time. First, he would send a Patronus to Andromeda, and who could contact Harry?

Remus didn't realise he'd become lost in thought until he felt a touch on his arm.

"Mister Remus does not needs to worry. Gitta will helps and everything will gets done." Gitta patted his arm in much the same way she had Nymphadora's.

He smiled, grateful for her support.

 

 

She surfaced from the depths of sleep to hear a baby's cry. "Gitta," she said thickly, "Will you please bring Ori to me?" Tere couldn't open her eyes they were so heavy.

"Here, Mistress."

Tere didn't usually feed Ori in bed, but wasn't up to dragging herself to the rocking chair in the lounge. Her body felt weighted down.

Thank Merlin her baby didn't care where he nursed. She chuckled. "Reclining Mother and Child, they could title us like a painting or a sculpture."  _Paula Becker. Henry Moore._ The names of artists came to mind in masculine tone. "Remus," she whispered. "Remus told me that."

"Mister Remus is a good man," Gitta said.

"Mmm." She dozed off for a few minutes and then awakened when a tiny grunt reminded her to shift her and Ori's positions so he could nurse on the other side. Eventually, she managed to open her eyes and focus properly. It took a couple of seconds to realise the wall she was staring at wasn't dingy Magnolia-white. It was yellow and further away from the bed.

Her eyes flickered upward. Her bedroom didn't have a high ceiling. Had Gitta used elvish magic to give the place a surprise makeover? The bed was the same, and the linens. Bumblebee wasn't her favourite colour palette, but Tere appreciated the thought. She waited for Ori to finish and sat up with him to thank her friend.

Remus was sitting in the rocking chair across the room—a large space with all her bits of furniture in it. He said, "Gitta's downstairs making tea."

"Downstairs." Somehow, she didn't think he meant the kitchen unit had been relocated to the entry hall. She pushed the duvet aside and started to ease out of bed. The hem of her jeans slid up. Silver glinted. Because she'd make Ori cry if she yelled, Tere asked carefully, "Why am I wearing a house arrest anklet?"

"For your protection."

She laughed without humour. "I can't do wandless magic. I'd say  _you_ were the one who needed protection."

Tere got out of bed and walked over to the window. "How long was I out?"

"Six hours."

The exact time she'd said Ori slept between feedings at night. Plenty of time for a kidnapping. Outside, darkness made it hard for her to distinguish anything more that she was looking down on an overgrown garden. "Where are we?"

"Still in London. Knockturn Alley wasn't a safe environment to—"

"Scramble my brains with a few more Memory Charms?" She put Ori on his back in the cot and checked his nappy. It was dry. A few sharp turns of a knob sent the mobile of Heffalumps and Kneazles to spinning. "I guess you love me, but not that much."

"You're wrong. I love you more than life itself."

She turned and found him standing a couple of metres away. Soft-footed bastard. "Good," she said harshly, "because I'd like to kill you." She backed against the cot when he took a step toward her. "Stay away from me!" Anger and disappointment made her throat ache. "I don't need spells to hurt you."

He moved closer. "Hit me. I deserve it for not protecting you, for not being there to stop Bellatrix from hurting you."

More lies. She tried to shove him away.

His arms wrapped around her tight.

For the baby's sake, Tere didn't scream as she tried to squirm and twist out of his hold. It wasn't because she was crying. She changed tactics and let her body go limp.

Her sudden dead weight caught Remus off guard and sent them toppling to the floor. He took the brunt of the fall and rolled to pin her down. His face was wet with tears. "Nothing could ever hurt me more than losing you. I woke from a living death to find a corpse with your face lying beside me." His eyes were dark, his expression tortured. "It was the worst moment of my life." He kissed her brow, her cheek. "I won't lose you again. I  _can't."_

His lips parted hers and she responded, giving up the battle against her emotions. The Order might be her enemy, but Remus wasn't. Everything he'd done was because he loved her, and Merlin help her, she couldn't fight him any longer.

Their kiss tasted salty, a mingling of tears. She loved his mouth and the glide of his tongue. The feel of his body on hers awakened needs remembered only from dreams. She wanted to satisfy them in reality.

He groaned when she arched beneath him. "Not like this."

"Then lock the door."

Pressed against him so intimately, Tere could literally feel his muscles tighten even as he asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'll do it myself if you let me up."

He looked flattered and regretful. "There's no Muggle lock."

"I can prop a chair under the handle."

She was kissing his smiling mouth when the door opened.

"Mistress? You has—"

A voice cut through Gitta's. "I don't need to be announced. I'm Dora's mother!" A gasp rang out. "Dora! What's happened?  _Dora!"_

Tere closed her eyes. "Tell her to go away," she said. "I don't want to see her. My name's not Dora, and she's not my mother!" The tones were similar, but different as day and night, weak and strong.

A fretful cry rent the air.

"Teddy! Nana's precious boy! Let me hold you."

Tere grabbed Remus's shoulders and pushed him to the side, rising to her feet to yell, "Don't touch my son, you bitch!"

 


	11. Dark Resolve

 

 

Remus hurriedly picked himself up off the floor. If Nymphadora tried to attack her mother, he'd use a Body-Bind and apologise later—after warding the door to ensure they wouldn't be interrupted.

Andromeda lifted Teddy from the cot. "Shhh, darling, Nana's sorry for bursting in. I was so eager I forgot your mummy's memory isn't healed yet."

"Put him on the bed." Nymphadora's tone was a warning.

Andromeda lifted an eyebrow. "I'll be happy to give him to you."

Remus saw something like panic flash across his wife's face.

"I don't want to get that close," she said. "Put him down and leave."

"No. My grandson wants to be held, therefore I will hold him until my stubborn daughter takes him from me." Andromeda kissed Teddy's plump cheek. "I've missed you so."

Remus got the impression she spoke to both mother and son.

Nymphadora turned to him. "You take Teddy."

"Teddy?" His heart leapt.

"I meant Ori."

"But you said Teddy." Andromeda's voice rang with satisfaction. "Bellatrix didn't suppress your memories as well as she planned. You're starting to remember, aren't you?"

" _Shut up!"_

Remus asked, "Why don't you want to get close to her?"

Nymphadora's lips trembled. "She—she's evil. My mother's dead _,_  the stupid war's  _over,_ and she's still trying to use us. Please make her go away!"

The agonised plea wrenched his heartstrings. He steeled himself to speak the truth she didn't want to hear. "Andromeda is your mother. Deep inside you know it, the same way you knew you loved me." Nymphadora's face twisted in distress, but he pressed on. "If you really thought she was evil you wouldn't be afraid to look at her. You'd snatch Teddy out of her arms."

Dark eyes caught fire. "I'm. Not. Afraid."

He quickly cast a spell. There was a faint ping of metal.

"Why did you Stun her?" Andromeda crossed the room to stand protectively between him and her daughter.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Nymphadora's the most determined and resourceful woman I've ever known. She realised her morphing wouldn't be affected by the anklet and transformed her leg and foot to be rid of it. She isn't Stunned. She's in a Body-Bind, which should enable her to hear what you say without physical pain." He reached for Teddy. "We'll go to the kitchen and leave you to talk in private. Join us whenever you're ready, there's no hurry."

 

In the basement kitchen, the six clustered around the long table jumped up from their seats to greet him.

"Is Tonks better yet? May we see her?" Ginny asked.

"Andromeda's with her now," Remus said. "She's . . . improving."

He saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. Ron, who was standing closest to Hermione, nudged her slightly.

She elbowed him in return and then asked, "What does Tonks remember?"

Unaccountably, Remus's mind flashed to the moment Nymphadora's hips cradled his. Merlin, he'd wanted to ward the door shut.

"Why aren't you answering?" Molly, edging out Ginny to extend a finger for Teddy to grasp, gave Remus a narrowed stare.

Arthur said, "I believe Tonks's recollections are of a personal nature, dear."

" _OH!_ Then they should remain unspoken."

"He wasn't going to share, Mum." Ginny rolled her eyes.

Molly bristled. "I never suggested he was."

Remus cleared his throat the way he had in class to remind students that differences of opinion should not become a row. "I thought I'd fix tea."

Between one second and the next Gitta moved from standing beside the counter to tugging at his sleeve. "Gitta will prepares it, Mister Remus!"

A heartbeat later, Kreacher appeared next to Gitta. He stared down his nose at the younger house-elf. "Kreacher is Master Harry's house-elf. Kreacher prepares tea for guests!"

"Like you prepares this house, dusty and mouldy?" Gitta put her hands on her hips. "Gitta will not allows you to serves her mistress mouldy tea!"

Kreacher spluttered. "You—you dare—"

"Ahem!" Once he had the elves' attention, Remus told Gitta, "This house was vacant for a long time, so a little dust is perfectly understandable." He looked at Kreacher. "I have every confidence in your ability to conjure. My wife, however, trusts Gitta alone."

"So  _Gitta_  makes the tea."

Gitta's triumphant smile caused Kreacher's grey skin to redden. "For your mistress _,"_ he said. "Kreacher will prepares tea for the  _rest_  of Master Harry's visitors!"

"Excellent." Molly let go of the baby's finger to pat Kreacher on the shoulder. "I'm fond of your cheddar scones."

"I need a sandwich," Ginny said. "My stomach's rumbling." She walked over to Remus. "May I hold Teddy? He's so adorable." She touched blue strands with a fingertip. "I love his hair."

Teddy smiled.

"Did you see that, Mum? He likes me!"

"Of course he does," Molly said. "Now mind you hold him properly."

Remus left his son to be cooed over and went to tell Harry, "I can't thank you enough for opening the house for us."

"I was glad to. So was Kreacher."

Ron grimaced. "Grinned ear-to-ear, he did _._ Creepiest thing ever."

"It was  _touching_ ," Hermione snapped. She glanced over at the elves working side by side. "Gitta calls Tonks mistress. Is that a formality, or . . .?"

"They share a bond." There was no other way for Remus to phrase it diplomatically.

"She seems happy to be . . . in service."

The slight pause told Remus that Hermione had also made an effort at tact. "I'm happy the fates put Nymphadora in her path," he said. "Gitta's been an invaluable friend." To change the subject, he asked, "Do you leave soon for Australia?"

"Tomorrow. We wanted to wait until after the service."

"Of course." Remus asked the boys. "You're going with her?"

"I am," Ron said. "Harry has to stay and revolutionise Auror Training procedures."

"Give input." Harry's eyes flickered to Ginny. "I don't mind."

Remus smiled. James had used those very words about Prefect duty with Lily.

The conversation turned to the upcoming trip. Neither Hermione nor Ron had been to Australia, and both were keen to spend time at the beach.

"Where there are no spiders," Harry said jokingly.

Andromeda was still upstairs when Kreacher announced tea was served. Remus asked Gitta to put a Stasis Spell on her teapot to give his mother-in-law a few more minutes with Nymphadora.

Gitta nodded. "And Gitta will holds the baby so Mister Remus can eats." She retrieved Teddy from Ginny and settled onto the bench between Molly and Remus.

"Humph!" Kreacher sat next to Harry and glared across the table, his expression declaring if-you-can-do-it-so-can-I.

Remus's amusement turned to alarm when Gitta made a sound of distress.

"Mistress calls me!" She gave Teddy to Molly.

Remus didn't waste time. He Apparated.

 

Inside the upstairs room, Nymphadora was curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing.

Andromeda knelt beside her. "Fight the pain, Dora! You have to fight."

As he rushed forward, Gitta appeared at Nymphadora's side. An instant later, the cries stopped.

"Mistress will sleeps and feels better," Gitta said.

Andromeda shook her head. "Dora will wake and the same thing will happen all over again." Frustration sharpened her tone. "You let her give in when she should have fought!"

Remus stepped between Andromeda and Gitta to lift Nymphadora and place her on the bed. "None of us are experts," he said firmly. "We can only theorise what should or should not be done." Nymphadora deserved better than that. "I'm going to St. Mungo's to find a psychiatric Healer who specialises in Memory Charm damage."

"Who you expect to drop everything to make a house call?"

"Yes." He smoothed Nymphadora's hair away from her face. "I'll have Harry with me."

_Wake to a hungry cry. Call for Gitta. Nurse lying in bed. I've done this before._

She opened her eyes.

This time, instead of watching her from the chair, Remus lay on the bed facing her.

"You're bold," she said. "Is that because you're a Gryffindor?"

"This is where I belong." His eyes searched hers. "You remember what Andromeda told you?"

"Yeah." She'd been a captive audience to the abridged history of Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, regaled with stories of childhood through marriage and the birth of Teddy, named after her father, Ted Tonks.

_Tonks, just Tonks._

"Do you believe Andromeda told the truth?"

Tears spilled from her eyes. How could she not believe? "But I still don't remember. What if I'm too damaged? What if I never get back all those memories?"

"I'll share mine." Remus kissed her eyelids. "And everyone who loves you will do the same." He brushed her lips so gently her eyes prickled with new tears. "I'm sure a Penseive won't be necessary," he said. "A Healer from St. Mungo's is coming to help."

A burp rent the air.

Remus chuckled. "Teddy's letting us know he's finished nursing."

"And he wants Daddy to give him a clean, dry nappy." The words slipped out so easily, she had to ask, "Have I said that before?"

"Many times."

While he saw to Teddy, she visited the ensuite toilet. The claw foot tub in the bathing area was gorgeously massive—and familiar. "I've taken a bath in that tub, haven't I?" Tonks said as she returned to the bedroom.

Remus set the mobile above the cot spinning in lazy circles. "We have."

She joined him in watching Teddy gaze up and "talk" to the Heffalumps and Kneazles. Belatedly, Remus's exact wording sank in. " _We?_ "

"You and I. Buckbeak wanted to join us, but he was far too large. He only managed to stick his head in the doorway."

For some reason a song came to mind.

 

_I want a Hippogriff for Christmas,_

_Only a Hippogriff will do._

 

"There used to be a Hippogriff in this room?"

Remus looked pleased. "You remembered."

"Not really," she said, "But I want to."

"Then you will."

She sighed. "I wish your faith would rub off on me."

Remus gathered her close in a hug.

Tonks laid her head on his shoulder, soaking up his comforting warmth. "It isn't working." She rubbed her cheek against his shirt. "Must not be enough friction."

His chest shook. "Friction, hmmm?"

It felt good to make him laugh silently. She decided to try and make him do it out loud. "Yeah. I think we need to take off our clothes and try again."

The bottom dropped out of her stomach when he warded the door shut.

 


	12. Dark Light

 

 

"Merely a precaution," Remus said, noticing her wide eyes. He didn't expect Nymphadora to strip; he only wanted privacy. "May I kiss you?"

"Please."

Remus touched her cheek. "Don't," he said when her blush suddenly faded.

The pink returned in a vivid wash of colour. "It's embarrassing."

"It's beautiful." He softly kissed each "rose" and then her lips.

It didn't take long for his love to lose her shyness and deepen the kiss. Remus let her set the pace, fervently meeting the demands of her mouth and tongue. "I'm not asking for more," he said when her hands tugged at his shirt.

"I am. Take it off."

He helped her unfasten the buttons. "Don't feel pressured to reciprocate."

"I won't." She pulled her t-shirt over her head.

The glimpse of curves barely veiled by long hair and a low-cut bra prompted him to ask, "Have you considered changing your hairstyle?"

Nymphadora swept her hair back. "Like this?"

He slid his palms up her arms to cup her shoulders. "Exquisite."

She giggled and then looked stricken. "Was that insensitive? Did I ruin the mood?"

Remus kissed her passionately.

"That's good," she murmured a few minutes later.

He feathered kisses along her jaw and whispered in her ear, "It's brilliant."

Her laugh made him grin.

Almost shyly, she asked, "Is it always like this?"

_A mixture of humour, lust, and breath-stealing tenderness?_  "Yes."  _Thank Merlin._

A pretty flush bloomed from her chest to her face. "I'll call Gitta and ask her to take Teddy downstairs."

If there was a reason why he should say no, he couldn't think of it—not that he tried. "I'll step into the bathroom for a moment, and perhaps you should, erm, retrieve your shirt."

"My shirt?" She glanced down. "Oh, I forgot." Her expression clouded. "I keep doing that."

"I'm flattered." It wasn't what she meant, but his aim was to distract. He hooked a finger beneath a bra strap and tugged it into place. "And I'll be waiting."

In the bathroom, he looked at his reflection.  _I'll be waiting? She'll think I mean to jump her the second she opens the door!_

Remus looked away from the chagrined face in the mirror. His eyes fell on the claw-foot tub.

A few minutes later, he sat waist deep in water and conjured a mound of bubbles. When Nymphadora strolled in like a black-haired Lady Godiva, he said, "You've always found baths relaxing."

She walked over to stand at the opposite end of the tub. "I am kind of nervous."

"Me, too." He repeated words he'd spoken the night they became lovers. "It's our first time."

"I guess it is." She climbed into the water. "What now?"

Her gaze was skittish. Did she expect him to yank her into his arms? Maybe he would later, but she wasn't ready for that yet. He cast a wandless spell.

"What's happening?" Nymphadora asked, as the mound of foam rose between them.

Remus scooped and threw. "Bubble fight."

What started playfully in the bath ended in an expression of love he considered a renewal of vows.

Nymphadora lifted her head from his chest. "What you said after we—you know. Say it again."

"I, Remus, do come here freely seeking partnership. I come with all love, honour and sincerity, wishing only to become one with her that I love. Always will I strive for Nymphadora's happiness and welfare."

Tears glistened in her eyes. "I pictured Standing Stones. That's a real memory, isn't it?"

Remus wasn't ashamed to feel his own gaze mist. "Yes. We pledged our love twice on the Isle of Lewis."

"I don't remember anything more."

"You will with the Healer's help. She'll be here soon." He Summoned his watch and checked the time. "Very soon," he said. "I should go downstairs to meet her."

"I'll come with you."

"Everyone will be delighted," he said. "Gitta will make tea."

Nymphadora seemed leery at the thought of facing everyone, although she put on a determined smile. "And food to go with it, I hope. I'm starving."

"So am I." He was hungry for their relationship and family to be fully restored. "But first I need to dry the bathroom tiles—and possibly my trousers." They had displaced a lot of water.

"I'll help." His love sprang off the bed and extended a hand to pull him up.

Remus took it gladly.

 

 

Compared to the cheeriness of their room, the rest of the house was old-fashioned and gloomy. "Who lives here? Dracula?" she asked.

"The Wolf Man, until his lovely bride regains her memory."

That he could joke about his condition without a trace of bitterness awed her. On the first-floor landing, Tonks leaned over to kiss his cheek and stumbled against him, knocking them into the wall.

Remus anchored an arm around her waist. "Steady?"

"I am now." A swell of emotion brought tears to her eyes. "You're the most amazing person." She'd stolen their baby, said and done so many things that must have hurt. "You deserve better—"

"There's no such thing. You and Teddy are the best parts of my life."

The floodgates opened. He was so damned wonderful, and she felt the same way about him and Teddy. "I'm a bloody watering pot," she said when she'd managed to get hold of herself. "You'd think I'd have done better in Herbology." She dried Remus's shirt with a charm and then realised, "I never got an Outstanding. I  _remember_!" She hugged him. "I'm so happy!"

He chuckled. "Let's go share the joy."

"Right." She imagined wizards and witches familiar from Order photographs ganged together, impatiently staring at the door. Hurriedly, she morphed to remove any blotchiness or puffiness from crying.

There wasn't a crowd in the basement, thank goodness. Tonks gave those assembled a little wave. "Wotcher."

"Tonks! It's so good to see you!" A red-haired girl bounded forward.

It took a second to match a name with the face. "Thanks, Ginny."

Andromeda, from her seat in armless rocking chair, said, "Teddy just drifted off to sleep, if you want to put him in his cot."

"No, it—it's fine if you hold him. You're his Nana."  _My mother._ Tonks wished she didn't sound overly polite and awkward. She didn't want to hurt Andromeda, but she couldn't go up to her and give her a hug—couldn't feel what a daughter was supposed to feel. When she'd tried, pain drove all other thoughts out of her mind. Bellatrix's spells were wickedly effective.

Gitta appeared at her side. "Mistress wants tea?"

"Ta, thanks, and a sandwich if it’s no trouble."

"Nursing mums need more calories," said the woman recognisable as Molly Weasley.

The woman who had killed Bellatrix.

Tonks dredged up a polite smile. Logically, she was aware that Mrs. Weasley acted in defence of her children, and Bellatrix more than earned her fate.

"Why don't we take a seat?" Remus asked.

"All right." She ended up sitting between him and Ginny and directly across from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Her discomfort scale went off the Richter. She'd believed these people were her enemies. Did they know what she'd done to Jones, Figg, and Diddle? Hagrid's lonely-hearts ad wasn't published yet.

"Tea is served," Gitta said.

A silver tea service with two china cups and saucers and plates of sandwiches and tea cakes appeared on the table.

Tonks said, "It looks delicious, but there's so much. Is anyone else hungry?"

"No thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "We ate earlier."

"I'm still hungry." Ronald Weasley reacted to the others' disbelieving looks with a shrug. "I am."

More food and drink materialised on the pine tabletop. " _Kreacher_  is Master Harry's house-elf. Kreacher is serving Master Harry's guests." An elderly house-elf stood behind the Weasleys, arms crossed, glaring at Gitta.

His raspy voice affected Tonks strangely. She dug her fingernails into her palms.

Kreacher shuffled closer, watery grey eyes focused on hers. "Is you remembering Kreacher?"

"Betrayer," she whispered. "Liar. Murderer." The accusations ripped their way up from a place that was dark and raw. She twisted her arm out of Remus's grip when he tried to prevent her from leaving the table. She didn't understand why she loathed Kreacher so fiercely, but she did, and she refused to stay in the same room with him.

She Apparated.

Remus courteously knocked on the door of their bedroom before he walked in.

"I won't go back there," she said. "I'll do something violent."

"Why?"

"You tell me."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. There were wrongs on many sides and then change. Forgiveness."

"Not on my part." A headache squeezed her like a vice. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said. "It hurts."

"Let me help." Remus guided her over sit at the end of the bed and leaned down to gently rotate his fingers over her scalp and then massaged her forehead and the skin at the corners of her eyes with the pads of his fingers in tiny circles. He kneaded across her shoulders and the back of her neck, pressing his fingers against the base of her skull and releasing.

He knelt and unlaced her boot. "There's a pressure point on your foot."

It was the place where the bones came together between her big toe and the second toe. While she breathed deeply, he did the press, release, massage routine, and then ran his hands up and down the tops of her feet. He slid his thumbs down to the bottom of her foot and swirled them around.

She sighed. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Remus was retying her laces when someone knocked on the door.

"Mistress? Healer Wells is here to sees you."

"Just a moment," Tonks called. She told Remus, "I'm scared. What if she can't help?"

"Have faith."

She hugged him. "I'll try."

 

Healer Wells met them in the drawing room. She was a grandmotherly-type witch who introduced herself and said, "I conjured a fire." She waved a hand at the blue flames shimmering in the ornate fireplace. "Patients find them calming."

Tonks nodded, although she felt the opposite of relaxed. She sat on the sofa with Remus facing the Healer. "My husband told you what Bellatrix did. What can you do to fix it?"

"First, I'd like to hear what happened from your perspective."

As quickly and unemotionally as possible, Tonks rattled off a brief summary.

"How do you feel about Bellatrix?" the Healer asked.

_My poor child. I was too late._

Tonks turned her head away from Remus's sympathetic gaze, toward the fireplace. The blue flames mesmerised. By focusing on them, it was easier to say, "I believed she was my mother. That she cared for me."

"And after you discovered the truth?"

"Conflicted."

"How so?"

"I cried because no one at the memorial grieved Bellatrix, and I should've been glad. I should hate her."

"But you don't?"

"No." The shock of her answer brought Tonks out of the weird trance state she'd fallen into. "I didn't mean that. Of course I hate her. She was evil. Insane. Worse than Kreacher." Even to her own ears, Tonks's words lacked conviction. What was wrong with her?

Healer Wells leaned forward in her chair. "Spells to repress memories with pain were not the only ones cast. She used  _Fide_ to ensure loyalty."

"Then use a counter-spell."

" _Finite_ didn't work," Remus said. "I tried it numerous times."

Tonks said, "And I thought you were just staring into my eyes."

Remus's mouth curved. "Mostly I was."

Healer Wells waited until they redirected their attention to say, "If my theory is correct, once the repression spells are broken, the loyalty charms will also be null."

"Ace," Tonks said. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Very well. Stare into the fire."

"Why? So I can hypnotise myself?"

"I prefer to call it entering a disassociated state of awareness. It allows you to detach from the critical mind and calmly review traumatic events as an impartial observer."

Tonks reluctantly gazed at the flames. "I won't stay detached if I'm in pain."

"I'll cast a spell to block it."

Tonks relaxed and watched the fire. A peaceful silence descended.

Eventually, Healer Wells asked, "Tonks, can you picture yourself at Hogwarts Castle?"

"No."

"Try."

"Everything's dark."

"The darkness is a pair of curtains," Healer Wells said. "Draw them apart and tell me what you see."

Tonks envisioned it. "The castle's like something out of a fairy tale."

"How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"Move forward in time to Hogwarts during the battle. What does it look like?"

"I can't see."

"Put out your hands."

"I can't move."

"Then listen. What do you hear?"

"Bellatrix."

"What is she saying? Remember, there is no pain."

Tonks heard laughter in the darkness.

" _Wittle Tonksie, Wittle Tonksie, you almost had me a time or two. I wasn't expecting nasty hexes from a nice wittle girl."_

_Tonks felt something press her arm, brush her face. Bellatrix was kneeling beside her._

" _Such potential here, be a shame to throw you away like a broken dolly."_

_A fingertip tapped Tonks's cheek._

" _I'm going to take you and fix you up so I can play with you forever. Doesn't that sound fun?"_

_Tonks's body rose into the air._

_Bellatrix giggled. "Come along, wittle dolly."_

"No!" Tonks cried.

"Detach from emotion, leave that memory and go back in time to your childhood," Healer Wells said. "Christmas Day. Are you there?"

_There was a stocking at the end of her bed. She wouldn't find what she asked for in it._ "Yes."

"Tell me, how old are you?"

"Six." A scene took shape before her mind's eye.

_She wrote the letter and burned it in the fireplace exactly as Cousin Rita told her. The ashes went up the chimney and travelled to Father Christmas by magic—the only real magic Muggles had._

Healer Wells said, "Go find your parents."

Tonks shook her head.

_Her parents were probably asleep and didn't know about her secret letter anyway. She jumped out of bed and clattered down the stairs. The present could be under the tree in a box with holes._

_When her foot touched the bottom step she heard a low bark and ran toward the sound, through the dining room, into the kitchen. Tonks threw open the back door and saw the best present a girl could ever have._

_He wasn't a puppy; he was big and black with the most amazing grey eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his muzzle._

" _Nymphadora! Come away from that dog."_

_Tonks ignored her mother and hugged her new best friend. "No! He's my present from Father Christmas."_

" _He's a stray. Look. He has no collar."_

" _We'll buy him one."_

" _He doesn't belong to us."_

" _He wants to." She sniffled. "He's lonely."_

" _He can't stay. You have to let him go."_

_As if he understood, the dog jerked out of Tonks's hold and dashed across the garden, too fast for her to catch him. She rounded on her mother. "You drove him off!"_

_Tears streaked her mother's face. "I'm sorry, darling. Truly."_

_She didn't want to hear apologies. Rage and hurt boiled over. "You ruined Christmas! I'll hate you forever!"_

"Tonks, blink and become aware of your surroundings."

The Healer's voice severed the link with the past. Tonks sat dazed until Remus's hand covered hers.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I will be." She kissed him and Apparated.

Andromeda was standing by Teddy’s cot, looking down at him with a smile. “He’s a heavy sleeper like his mother.”

Tonks said, "I'm so sorry, Mum. I love you—I'll love you forever!"

Andromeda turned to her with open arms.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end? Not quite. Although readers are more than capable of imagining what happens next, I'm compelled to write an epilogue. :)


	13. Epilogue

 

 

Nymphadora's memories didn't return all at once. It took a series of therapy sessions and the gradual process of refamiliarisation to undo Bellatrix's Dark spellwork. Remus cherished the time as an opportunity to support his family as husband and father. He gained a deeper appreciation for everyday wonders—a baby's smile, laughter around the dinner table, holding his wife's hand as they drifted off to sleep.

Remembrance brought grief along with joy. Sometimes, all Remus could do to comfort was hold Nymphadora as she cried for her father, for Sirius, and for all the others lost during the war.

Harry invited them to stay at Grimmauld Place as long they liked, but Kreacher's presence and bittersweet memories made letting a flat the healthier choice. Nymphadora had no qualms about keeping Bellatrix's gold, and Remus agreed they would do a better job than the Ministry using it for a worthy cause.

As the weeks passed, Nymphadora reconnected with family and friends and frequently visited the Auror Office. Remus didn't press her to decide whether to accept the offer of reinstatement. She would make the choice when she was ready.

On the third Sunday in June, the day of the summer solstice, Remus heard the doorbell chime. He rose from the breakfast table. "I'll answer it." Although it was probably his mother-in-law, he cast a Shield Charm before opening the door.

William Hughes, the young werewolf Remus had befriended during his mission "underground," stood in the corridor. "Hullo, professor. Your new address was listed on the Werewolf Registry."

"They still like to keep track of us." Remus offered his hand and gave Will's a hearty shake. "It's good to see you."

"Will!"

Remus glanced over his shoulder to see Nymphadora striding toward them, delighted recognition sparkling in her eyes. "What brings you to London? Where's Lillie? Come and see how Teddy's grown." Her brow furrowed slightly. "We  _did_ send you a baby picture, didn't we?"

"Yeah. Lillie loved his hair so much she put matching streaks in hers."

Nymphadora said, "I always liked her style. Have you had breakfast?"

"I ate a few hours ago in Inverness."

"Have seconds. I am." Remus was full, but Will had a lean and hungry look about him. He could use another meal.

To his credit, Will's focused his attention on Teddy before the food and took Gitta's presence in stride, smiling when introduced and complimenting her cooking. He demolished a bowl of fruit salad along with two English muffins topped with scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.

"Did you go for more training?" Nymphadora asked. "Is that why you're still in Inverness?"

Instead of Salford, working at the pack-owned Black Wolf Brewery. Remus wondered the same thing. Will had earned general certificates in brewing, distilling, and packaging.

"It's my goal to be a Master Brewer one day," Will said.

Nymphadora replied, "I'm sure you will be," and excused herself a few moments later to see to Teddy while Gitta took the dishes into the kitchen and left the men to finish their coffee.

Will said, "I guess they picked up that I wanted to talk to you in private." He smiled wryly. "And I promised Lillie I'd be subtle."

"You were." When the reassurance failed to get Will to open up, Remus suggested they walk off their breakfast in the park across the street.

"This is a long way from a council estate," Will said as they began their stroll.

The green grass, manicured shrubbery, and bright profusion of flowers suddenly seemed an embarrassment of riches. "We're letting the flat, we don't own it." The defensiveness of his tone made Remus shake his head. It shouldn't matter either way.

"You doing any teaching?"

"Not at the moment." His priority was his family.

Will halted. "I know a group of students who want to learn more than they can from a single teacher. They need your help, professor."

Images of the pack of children raised to hate wizards flashed into Remus's mind. Donnie with his combed-back hair and alcoholic Buckfast tonic ; Adrienne showing off the many piercings she'd done herself; Lark's sad, dark eyes; Frank's swagger—and the rest, young and painfully eager to learn wandless magic.

"Skoll was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts," Will said. "The pack has no alpha and no future if somebody doesn't step in."

"Delia—"

"They only heed Lillie's mum when she teaches magic, and before you ask, yes, I've tried to help. Nobody was interested in what an outsider had to say."

"What makes you think they'd listen to me? I wasn't there long."

"Long enough to show them living is about more than survival. That's it's possible to have a better life."

The heartfelt words affected Remus deeply. If he'd managed to influence the pack in such a short time, imagine what he could do in a proper school environment. "I'll have to think it over, talk to my wife," he said. "What you're suggesting would change our lives."

"Something a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus should be used to."

Remus ignored the cheekiness the way he had during lessons and finished his statement. "I make decisions with my family, not for them. You'll have to wait."

"On a park bench? It's a sunny day and Lillie likes me tanned. Take as long as you need."

"I'll send an owl," Remus said.

Will grinned. "I had to try."

A cheerful "Wotcher!" drew attention to the woman who pushed a classic pram in a non-traditional turquoise camouflage fabric in their direction. "Teddy fancied a ride, so I figured I'd get some exercise," Nymphadora said.

She'd dressed the part in running clothes and trainers. Remus looked into the pram. "Teddy's asleep."

"Already? I knew Pegasus Prams were smooth as gliding on air, but this is amazing. I'll have to write the company a letter." She peered at the baby and sighed. "Lack of motion might wake him, I'd better go. Enjoy your chat." She walked away at a leisurely pace.

"Should we join her?" Will asked. "Our talk's over for now."

Nymphadora had stopped to retie the laces on her trainers. Remus admired her legs and her determination. "Yes. Let's."

 

 

Tonks was contemplating whether to amble a few metres down the path and stop to do a few stretches before giving up and taking a proper walk when she heard footsteps approach. She glanced over her shoulder. "Hullo! Did you two decide to keep me and Teddy company?"

Remus arched a brow. "Teddy?"

She concentrated and lengthened her eyelashes in order to flutter them outrageously. "He's very intuitive. I'm sure he knows you're here."

"Look! He's smiling in his sleep!" Will said.

Tonks was willing to use coincidence. "Teddy loves his da— _AH!_  My eye!" One of her super-long lashes had fallen out. It scraped like hell.

Remus gently pressed her lower lid down and removed the irritant.

She morphed her eyelashes back to normal. "Thanks, sweetie."

"You're very welcome."

Tonks kissed his cheek and then asked Will, "Ever pushed a pram before?"

"No."

"Here's your chance. It'll be good practice and impress Lillie." She laced her fingers with Remus's. "It's been ages since we took a stroll holding hands."

"A couple of days, at least."

"That's ages. Will, keep both hands on the push bar at all times."

"Yes, ma'am."

The day was gorgeous, the feel of Remus's skin warm as the sunlight drenching the pathway. She asked Will about Lillie and the Salford pack, glad to hear the brewery was on its way to success and providing even more jobs than expected.

She tried to find a tactful way to ask about a different pack whose only shelter was a rundown warehouse—the reason Will had breakfast in Inverness. "What about the kids Lillie's mum teaches?"

Remus said, "That's what Will came to talk to me about."

His hand pressed hers lightly, a cue to drop the subject and discuss it later.

"Did Greyback provide anything for them?" she asked. Tonks could wait to ask other questions, but she had to know if basic needs were met.

"He left some Galleons," Will said.

Enough to pay for food, she expected, but not proper housing or anything else most children in the wizarding world took for granted. Even after death Fenrir Greyback tried to keep his pack feral. The bastard.

After their walk, Will declined their offer to come up for tea or a Butterbeer. He had to get back to Lillie.

Tonks asked him to say hullo for her and took Teddy upstairs. She transferred her sleeping love to his cot and waited for Remus in the lounge. He came in while she was morphing her fingernails from pink to purple.

"Pinot Noir," she said. "What do you think?"

"Interesting choice."

The way he said "interesting" interested her. "Why?"

"The Pinot Noir grape demands optimum growing conditions and requires special attention and care from the winemaker." He half-smiled. "That's why so much less is produced than other wines."

"And why it costs more? We can afford it." Tonks patted the cushion beside her. "We're not just talking about wine."

"No." He sat down. "I told Will I make decisions with my family, not for them."

She leaned over and kissed him. "One of the many reasons I love you."

"Your kind heart and generous spirit are two of the reasons I love you," Remus said. "I won't take advantage of them."

"You aren't. I want to help those kids."

"They need more than financial support."

"I understand." She tried to coax a smile. "They can't be worse than first-year Auror trainees."

"That's another issue. Your career."

"The one that doesn't suit me anymore? I can't go back," Tonks said. "I've tried, but things aren't the same." It was like dropping a burden to admit, "I'm not the same. The war—everything that happened—changed me. I just didn't know what I could do instead until now."

Remus still looked grave. "Even so, there's Teddy's wellbeing to consider."

"Precautions can be taken. Security wards. Safe rooms. Gitta."

The house-elf appeared. "Yes, Mistress?"

Not for the first time, Tonks was grateful that saying a house-elf's name acted as a Summoning Charm. It saved her from doing something she had no right to do: speak for Gitta.

Tonks was a little apprehensive, sharing the reason for Will's visit. Gitta wasn't prejudiced, but caring for a household with a werewolf master was quite different than overseeing a school for them. Tonks couldn't even say how many students there would be.

"We'd employ any help you'd need," Remus said.

Tonks, sitting next to Gitta, saw her eyes narrow and quickly added, "An assistant housekeeper. A gardener. You'd be in charge, of course."

Gitta seemed intrigued. "Gitta chooses her staff?"

"Absolutely." Tonks glanced at Remus.

He nodded. "We trust your judgment implicitly."

"Is they allowed to be house-elves?"

"They can be anyone, wizard or magical being," Tonks said. "I know a mountain troll named Sendak who'd make a perfect groundskeeper. He loves flowers." She shot Remus a warning look.  _Don't tell her he eats them!_

"Indeed," Remus said, with only a hint of a smile.

Gitta promised her support without further hesitation.

 

They invited Andromeda for dinner that evening, and Tonks found her mum harder to convince. Andromeda worried about their safety and about losing the comfort of seeing them every day.

"What if the Ministry bars you from connecting to the Floo Network? Will I have to learn to Apparate long distances at my age?"

"You could. I believe you could do anything—even teach a Life Skills class to children who never had parents to learn from," Tonks said.

"Household spells. Cooking. Shopping and budgeting. Time management," Remus said. "Your expertise would instil the confidence and ability needed to live independent and healthy lives."

"And who will mind Teddy?"

"We all will," Tonks said. "Together. As a family."

_July, 1999_

The Lupin Institute of Higher Learning's inaugural class—the Inverness pack—responded so well to the new structure and curriculum, the staff unanimously agreed Remus should invite other school-aged werewolves the following term.

Twelve letters went out by owl. Half of them received negative or no response. Those who showed interest received information packets followed by a visit from the Institute's Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress.

The first family they visited, the Peppers, lived in Bourton-on-the-Water, a picturesque Cotswold village. Mr. and Mrs. Pepper rented the other unit of their semidetached cottage, and initially mistook Tonks and Remus for holidaygoers looking to check in.

Mrs. Pepper invited them in for tea and called up the stairs for her daughter. Soon they all faced each other across the kitchen table.

Mr. Pepper opened the brochure to the photo of the manor house transformed into a school. "Where's this located in Scotland?"

Remus said, "Due to safety concerns, I'm not at liberty to say. Students will arrive and depart by a specially chartered Knight Bus."

"You can owl anytime," Tonks said, "If there's an emergency, send your Patronus or go to the nearest Auror office and have someone get in touch. We're accredited by the Ministry. Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt are on our board of governors." She smiled at the thirteen-year-old girl who watched them through a veil of sandy-blonde fringe. "Any more questions?"

"Is there a library? I like to read," Alex said.

"Yes," Remus answered. "We've been fortunate to receive donations to augment the collection of books included in the manor's purchase."

"There's everything from romance novels to texts in Latin," Tonks said.

"What about wands?" Mrs. Pepper asked. "Are students issued wands?"

"Not yet," Remus said, "but we've petitioned for it, and have hopes that the Wizengamot will soon repeal the ban along with other anti-werewolf legislation. Times are changing."

"Yet you have safety concerns," Mr. Pepper said.

Remus nodded. "Change takes time, and we have to protect against those who might act out of ignorance and fear."

"Am I allowed outside at night?" Alex asked, "Or do you lock the kids up to keep peace with the neighbours?"

"There are wards on the perimeter fence, but you're free to roam the grounds," Remus said.

"We don't worry about neighbours," Tonks added, "There aren't any. We take the bus to Hogsmeade one Saturday a month, adjusting to coincide with Hogsmeade Weekends."

Alex's green eyes rounded. "You  _want_ us to meet normal witches and wizards?"

"We want you to meet other witches and wizards," Tonks said, "so you can see they aren't much different than you are and—what's your favourite colour?"

"Purple."

Tonks changed her hair to the shade of Pinot Noir. "There's no such thing as normal. There's only life and making the best of it."

Alex turned to her parents. "Please let me go to their school!"

Mr. and Mrs. Pepper immediately agreed.

 

Once the paperwork was filled out, the supply list handed over, and the date set for Alex to meet the other students at the Leaky Cauldron on September first to board the Knight Bus, Remus and Tonks said farewell and walked to the nearby Mousetrap Inn. Legend had it Agatha Christie, a Muggle author Remus was fond of, had visited there, and he wanted to see it.

Tonks enjoyed the local ale. She raised her glass in a toast to their success.

Remus touched his glass to hers. "To the school."

"To kids who want to learn."

"To our family," Remus said, in a contented, loving tone that brought tears to her eyes.

Tonks set down her glass and leaned over to kiss him. "To us."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the classic X-Men theme. _Da da da DA da da . . .._
> 
> Once upon a time, I thought if Jo killed off my favourite HP couple, I'd write a fic where they lived happily ever on the Isle of Lewis. When I came to the end of my canon stories, however, I could only see the island as a holiday home. Remus needed to do more than tutoring now and then. He needed a new mission; one Tonks could share as his partner in all things. I don't believe after the battle prejudices magically ended, so I don't see young werewolves receiving letters to Hogwarts, but I can see, in an alternate dimension of the Potterverse, the Ministry allowing (with Harry Potter's political clout behind it) The Lupin Institute of Higher Learning. The school name is a tribute to the X-Men. In my canon stories, when Tonks was fifteen she had a Muggle boyfriend named Rory Farrell. Besides giving Tonks her first kiss, he introduced her to Muggle comics. Ironically, she could never decide who was her favourite, Professor X or Wolverine. Maybe her sixth sense told her one day she'd marry a professor who had both caring intellect and animal magnetism. :D 
> 
> Remus's comments about Pinot Noir are quotes from the Lost Canyon Winery webpage. I started out looking for a shade of purple for Tonks to morph her nails and ended with a description that was a perfect fit for a pack of young werewolves. Paraphrasing didn't sound right, so I decided to use the exact phrasing and give credit.
> 
> Special thanks to everyone who’s read and given kudos to this story!

**Author's Note:**

> To (mis)quote a dashing dread pirate named Westley: Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is make a writer go AU! As the summary implies, this is an alternate ending romantic suspense story, although I stick to canon as closely as possible aside from their survival. 
> 
> I discovered the stars in most constellations don't have names that roll trippingly from the tongue (or the keyboard), so I was glad to find Terebellum "just Tere" for Tonks, and found it interesting that the name for Lambda Orionis, originally used for Gamma Gemini, was mistakenly applied to Orionis—and stuck. It made me think Bellatrix would know the history and take great pleasure in deliberately giving Tonks wrong names as she plotted to gain two "stars" for the House of Black—and her beloved Master.
> 
> This is a prologue; the rest of the chapters will have both Tonks and Remus's pov's. I hope readers will look forward to it. :)


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